Family Ties
by deepwater1978
Summary: Blood means you are related. It doesn't mean you are family.
1. Chapter 1

When you lost somebody; every candle, every prayer was not going to make up for the fact that the only thing that you had left was a hole in your life where that somebody that you cared about used to be.

Damon Salvatore stood at the doors that opened onto the veranda as he watched the family members of Grayson Gilbert strode into the Gilbert Manor. Beyond the veranda, in the lush valley below, the town of Mystic Falls, was clearly visible with its winding, tree-lined streets; manicured park; quaint shopping area; and, off to the right, the rolling hills of Mystic Falls Country Club. Situated precisely in the centre of Mystic Falls was Gilbert Ridge, the plush resort that had been in their family for generations. Like most small communities, Mystic Falls had a well-established social hierarchy, and the Gilbert family was as firmly ensconced at the pinnacle of that social structure as the Gilbert Manor was entrenched upon Mystic Falls' highest bluff.

Today, however, Damon's mind was not on the view from the veranda. He had lost someone important only a week before. Grayson had been a family friend since he was born. Unlike many of the socialites Damon had met in the course of his job, Grayson Gilbert was neither pompous, soft, nor filled with self-importance. He was always energetic, hardworking, blunt, and fair. He had exacting standards for everything, from his staff to his family to his horses. Those who fell short of his expectations—be it employees, hunting dogs, or horses—were soon gone from the premises, but he treated those who met his standards with respect. When he was home, he visited the stable every evening and strolled down the wide corridor dispensing carrots and friendly pats to each of the splendid horses who inhabited the ultramodern stalls.

Damon had liked and respected Grayson since he was a child. After leaving FBI because of a near fatal injury five years ago, he was completely lost. He had moved back to Mystic Falls, trying to decide what he should do for the rest of his life. During that time, Grayson had become a kind of mentor to him, offering advice and insight in his career. A year later, he joined Alaric as the legal advisor for Gilbert Ridge.

He didn't know why he had been summoned back to Gilbert Manor. He had just been there yesterday for the funeral. However, when Alaric Saltzman, his best friend called and asked for a favour, he would always drop everything and be there for him – just like he knew the same was true of Alaric. If Damon needed him, he would be there – and with back-up.

Damon glanced at his watch and decided it was time to find out what the meeting was about. He walked down a long hall towards the great room at the front of the house. He turned a corner and found himself confronting a group of people who were all Gilberts. Taken as a group, it was easy to see the family resemblance. They were a tall, dark-haired lot who carried themselves with the self-assurance and poise that came naturally to a proud, established clan.

"Hello," he said to the room at large.

A hush fell on the small crowd. Everyone turned to look at him.

John Gilbert, Grayson's younger brother was standing at the window talking quietly to his cousin Christopher Gilbert. He turned his head at once at the sound of Damon's voice. His eyes pinned him across the distance of the room.

"Why are we here, Alaric?" Samantha Gilbert, Christopher's sister asked from her seat, bracing her elbows on her knees. "I thought you are going to read the will tomorrow. And by the way, why is Damon here?"

"There is one thing to cover before I read the will."

"What's there to cover?" Christopher asked, shifting a glance around the room at his family. "Seems pretty clear to me. The huge Gilbert estate will be divided equally among us."

"I still can't believe he is gone," Melissa, Christopher's wife whispered.

Isobel Gilbert, John's wife dropped one arm around her shoulders and gave her a supportive hug. "It will be okay, Mel."

"Will it?" Samantha asked. "Who is going to take over of Gilbert Ridge? I mean, who will take Grayson's place as the president and CEO of Gilbert Ridge?"

"I understand this is a difficult time for all of you," Alaric said softly and waited until all eyes were on him. "I do. I told Grayson this wasn't the way to handle things."

"Let me guess," John interrupted, "My brother wouldn't listen."

"He had his own ideas."

"Always did," Christopher mused.

"The point is," Samantha said, voice loud enough that everyone settled down to hear her, "Why is Damon here? I know Grayson liked him a lot but he is still an outsider."

A sharp silence struck the room.

"Samantha is right," Damon said. "Why am I here?" He didn't want to be rude but he didn't want to stand around discussing about family matters which didn't concern him.

"I like a man who gets straight to the point," Alaric replied, not answering Damon's question. Damon looked again at Alaric and felt like he was being assessed.

John's expression turned fierce. "Can you stop beating around the bush?"

Damon hadn't been around Grayson's family much; apart from at work, but not enough to really feel he knew any of them well. They had never before been hostile, although he wouldn't consider them a nice bunch of people.

"I guess this is my opening," Alaric said as he looked at Damon. "We have a situation here and Grayson and I have come up with a solution that you may not be too thrilled about. When they hear what I'm going to say next, I think they may want to take their frustrations out on you."

"What do I have to do with this?" Damon asked, wanting to know what was going on. He was sick of them sidestepping the issue.

"The estate has been split, not into three equal shares, but four."

"Four?" Christopher repeated, glancing around at his family as if doing an unnecessary head count. "But there are only three of us."

"Grayson's last surprise," Alaric said quietly. "He had a daughter."

The atmosphere in the room, tense but subdued until now, suddenly took on the aura of impending disaster. Samantha's eyes widened in appalled shock. John looked grimmer than ever. Christopher did not move.

Damon stared at Alaric. "What the hell are you saying?"

"You are lying," Samantha hissed. "Grayson was never married."

"Samantha is right. Grayson never told me about any children. I'm positive he didn't have any." John rubbed the bridge of his nose. He appeared dazed. "You tracked down some deadbeats up somewhere and bribed them to pretend they were Grayson's long-lost offspring. Admit it."

"I'm sorry, John. Grayson had a daughter, by another woman. She is one of the heirs to the estate."

"If those so-called heir do exist, which I doubt very much, they are illegitimate."

"The law makes no distinction," Alaric said patiently. "A man's children are his offspring regardless of whether or not he was married to their mother."

"Can you prove it?" Samantha asked, her voice very tight.

"We have extensive proof that Grayson's daughter has every right to a portion of her father's estate."

"A portion?" Samantha's voice went up a notch, hitting the shrill threshold. "She is getting an equal share of the estate."

"You heard me, Samantha. Grayson's daughter has every right to her share of the estate."

Isobel smiled benignly. "It is not as if you didn't get a very nice chunk of change yourself."

Samantha turned on her. "The estate has been split into four equal shares. Four, not three."

There was a short, fraught pause. Damon became aware of the hushed silence that had settled in the room.

"I think you should calm down and listen to Alaric, Samantha," he said very softly.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up, Salvatore," Samantha screeched. "If Grayson really did have a daughter why didn't she show up at the funeral?"

"Grayson never married the woman," Alaric explained. "They lost track of each other years ago. The reality is that he walked away from the woman at some point and never looked back."

"This is ridiculous." With that Samantha turned and stormed out of the room.

There was a brief silence.

"I think we have had enough dramatics," John said finally. "Tell us what you are going to do, Alaric."

"Grayson had arranged things to get her back to Mystic Falls. Just like he always wanted," Alaric said.

Shortly after the other Gilberts had left, Damon and Alaric sat in front of the fire, a half-finished glass of bourbon on the arm of the chair beside them, a thick file of papers in Alaric's hand.

Damon glared at him. "Care to explain why am I involved in this?"

"I was just doing my job, Damon," Alaric said. "As I'm sure you are aware, I'm the attorney handling Grayson's estate. The trust provided for his family."

"But what do I have to do with this?" Damon asked in horror.

"Grayson needed someone he could trust to help me with this," Alaric said. "And I regard you as the best man I know."

Damon gave him a thin smile. "How nice of you."

Alaric ignored the sarcasm. "The Gilbert Ridge is at a very vulnerable stage at the moment. What had happened a few minutes ago could destroy everything Grayson had worked so hard for all these years."

"Right," Damon said. "It was all about money."

"A lot of money," Alaric said.

"Money or revenge," Damon said. "It is amazing how often the two tend to go together."

"Wow." Alaric was awed by the insight. "That is heavy, real heavy."

"No," Damon said. "It is human nature."


	2. Chapter 2

"Please send him in, Bonnie." Elena Sommers checked her hair and smoothed the front of her sleeveless black dress. She barely managed to suppress a groan when she saw her desk. The desk was piled so high with papers, notebooks, and invoices that he could not see the surface. There were more papers on top of the computer.

On the other side of the room a file drawer stood open. The folders inside were crammed willy-nilly with documents. More folders, apparently waiting to be filed, were stacked perilously high on top of the cabinet.

Her order and organisation was the least of her problem, she told herself. Because right now, she was meeting with an attorney who had refused to tell her what he wanted to see her about. Which accounted for the jangle of nerves in the pit of her stomach.

Behind her, the office door opened and she turned to greet her visitor. But whatever she might have said died unuttered at her first look at the man standing in the doorway.

The elegantly cut dark blue business suit he wore only emphasized the muscular body beneath. His shoulders were broad, his legs were long and his blue-grey eyes were narrowed on her. He had strong bone structure with high cheeks bones and a solid jaw line and a mouth that looked as though it didn't smile often.

It only took seconds for Elena to get an impression of cool confidence. It took even less than that for her to feel an attraction to him that sent what felt like champagne bubbles shooting through her veins.

When she was sure she could speak without making embarrassing gulping noises, she held out her hand and said, "I'm Elena Gilbert. You are Mr Alaric Saltzman?"

He crossed the room, shook her hand and then held on to it for just a bit too long before releasing her. "I'm Damon Salvatore. Alaric is on the phone right now but he should be here any minute."

As if she'd had a choice, she mused. Alaric had contacted her yesterday, claiming to have something important to discuss with her. The fact that he hadn't even hinted at what that might be made her wary even as her hormones continued to do a dance of appreciation.

Elena waved him to one of the two chairs opposite her desk. "I have to admit, I'm intrigued. Why would a lawyer from Mystic Falls come all this way to see me?"

"It is a long story," he said, glancing around her office.

She knew what he was seeing and that he was probably singularly unimpressed. The office seemed very small with the two of them in it. She felt as if she was in the centre of a small electrical storm. Invisible energy crackled in the air.

"Sorry about the mess in my office. We are a little busy at the moment," Elena said as she circled around behind her desk. "We have got four major events coming up in quick succession. I have another appointment in fifteen minutes, Mr Salvatore, so if you wouldn't mind, could you just tell me what you are doing here?"

"Damon."

She blinked. "What?"

"Call me Damon."

She hesitated. "Okay, Damon. Alaric said he has something important…"

"Sorry, I'm Alaric Saltzman."

Elena glanced up and saw a man in dark brown suit entered her office.

"I'm Elena. Have a seat," she said.

"Thank you." Alaric turned to survey the one unoccupied chair in the office. It was heaped with a variety of vendors' catalogues.

Elena followed his gaze. "Sorry about that." She started to get to her feet. "I will clear those off for you."

"Never mind. I will handle it." He picked up the stack of catalogues and hesitated briefly while he considered his few available options. There was no place to set his burden.

"Just put them on the floor," Elena said carelessly. "I'm sorry about the mess. As I told Mr Sal…Damon, the past few weeks have been murder."

For some reason Damon had a sudden vision of his work as FBI years ago. "An interesting choice of words."

"You know what I mean."

"Right."

His gaze met hers and held. Elena couldn't have looked away if she had wanted to.

She was no ordinary woman, Damon decided. Elena Gilbert was a sharp, intelligent, vital woman who gave off sexual sparks.

She was tall, Damon noted. In a pair of heels she would look him straight in the eye.

Her height and slender figure did interesting things to the long lines of her fluidly draped menswear-style trousers. The grey linen shirt fell elegantly over small firm breasts.

The sculpted line of her shoulders and spine, together with the easy, energetic way she moved, hinted at the benefits of a regular physical fitness routine. She might be careless about her filing habits, he reflected, but she looked as though she was highly disciplined about her workout.

 _Goal-oriented._ Like himself, he thought.

Her interesting, fine-boned face was framed by dark brown hair that she wore in a casual twist. The almond-shaped, deep brown eyes with thick dark lashes made her looked even more attractive.

 _This is business, not sex. Get the right message to the hormones before they do something really,_ really stupid here, he thought grimly.

Alaric cleared his throat. "I represent the estate of Grayson Gilbert."

"Gilbert." Elena thought about the name, trying to place it in order to make the connection. "I don't think I know Mr Grayson Gilbert."

Alaric gave her a brief smile and inclined his head. Reaching down for the briefcase at his feet, he pulled it onto his lap, opened it and took out a legal-size, manila envelope. Sliding it across the desk to her, he said, "This is Mr Gilbert's will."

Confused but curious, Elena picked up the envelope and opened it. She pulled out a document and glanced at the title. "His will? Why do I have a copy of the man's will?"

"Because, Miss Gilbert, you are one of the beneficiaries," Damon said quietly.

She glanced from the document to Damon and back again. Her stomach did a wild spin and flutter that left her feeling off balance.

"That makes no sense," she murmured, slipping the will back into the envelope and deliberately flattening the brass clasp. "I have never met the man. Why would he leave me anything in his will?"

Alaric's features tightened and Elena thought she caught a glimpse of sympathy shining in his eyes before he took the envelope back from her and slid it into his briefcase. "I told you it was going to be a long story."

"Right." She watched him close up his black leather case and wished she had the document in her hands again. She would like the chance to read it herself before they went any further. But apparently, Alaric wanted his say first. Which didn't do a thing to ease the tension flooding her system.

What was happening here? And why did a man she had never met leave her something in his will? She didn't understand.

"Then perhaps we can meet later, when you have more time."

She didn't want to wait, but didn't see how she could avoid it.

"Time. Yes. That's probably a good idea. I'm…" Elena shook her head, met Alaric's gaze and said, "I'm sorry. This is just all so confusing. Maybe if you gave me some idea what this was about. Why I was mentioned in his will…"

"I think it is best to get this done all at once," Alaric said. "No point in getting into it now when we can't finish it."

Both Damon and Alaric stood. Elena was forced to tip her head back to look up at them. There was a sense that once she met with these two men and heard the whole story, nothing in her life was ever going to be the same.

Damon was watching her as if he could read her mind and knew exactly what a tumult her thoughts were in. She read understanding in his eyes and once again thought she caught a flicker of sympathy.

Nerves rattled through her and Elena knew she would never make it through her whole day now without knowing what was going on. How could she possibly do the myriad other jobs that required her attention with this mystery hanging over her head?

Nope, an impossible task. On impulse, she stood up and said, "On second thought, I think we should have that talk now. If you could give me a half an hour to clear up a few things, we could meet…"

Where? Not here in the office. If she was about to get hit with bad news, she would rather it wasn't done in front of people she had to work with every day.

As if he were still reading scatter-shot thoughts, Damon offered, "Why don't we meet for lunch? We can come back in an hour and then we will talk."

She nodded. "One hour."

Once they had left, Elena took a deep breath in a futile attempt to steady herself. Her stomach was jumping with nerves and her mind was whirling. What in the world was going on?

She had get to the bottom of this and then decide what to do about it.

But before she could do that, she had to clear her appointments for the day. She had no idea how long this meeting with Alaric and Damon was going to take—or if she would be in any kind of mood to deal with business once their meeting was over. She hit a button on her phone. Her assistant, Bonnie, opened the office door an instant later. Her green eyes sparkling, she asked, "What's up with Mr Gorgeous?"

Elena sighed. Bonnie was more friend than assistant. They had been friends since they met in college. After graduation, Elena had joined Jenna, her aunt's PR company. Bonnie had come to work for them a year later.

"I have no idea."

Bonnie's smile faded. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I will let you know later," she said, sitting down at her desk again. "For now, I need you to cancel today's meetings. I have got something important to take care of."

"That won't be difficult. When do you want everything rescheduled?"

"Work everyone in as quickly as possible," Elena told her. "We will just double up a little and stay late if we have to."

"Okay," Bonnie said. "This does sound important. Is everything all right? Do you want me to call Jenna?"

"Honestly, I don't know." The unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach kept warning her that things were about to get very weird. And there wasn't a thing she could do to avoid it. "But I don't want you to call Jenna. She is having her honeymoon now. I'm a big girl now. I can deal with it."

But she wasn't sure she could actually deal with it.

Damon was waiting for her when Elena came down the elevator and crossed the lobby of the office building. Something inside him stirred at the sight of her. He had felt it earlier, too. The moment he had looked into her brown doe eyes, Damon had known that this woman was going to be trouble.

He didn't do trouble. Not for years, now. And Elena Gilbert was definitely off-limits to him.

Not only was she the illegitimate daughter of his employer…there was also the fact that any "fraternization" with members of the Gilbert family could complicate things.

Hadn't ever been an issue for him before this. Samantha Gilbert was pretty, but she had never interested him. But he had the distinct feeling that Elena Gilbert was going to be a different matter altogether.

As she crossed the glossy floor, his gaze took in everything about her. Long dark brown hair, soft and touchable. It had been only an hour since he had met Elena at her office. Nothing had changed, he decided. If anything, the impact she made on his long-dormant libido this time around was stronger than it had been an hour ago.

He suddenly realised that it was a bad idea that he had agreed to meet her for lunch without Alaric.

Her eyes met his and Damon told himself to take care of business and get back to the jet waiting for him at the airport. Safer all around if he concluded this trip as quickly as possible.

"Sorry I'm late," she said as she joined him. "Where is Mr Saltzman?"

"He has to take care of an important matter, he won't be joining us." Of course the fact that he wanted to take her hand again just for an excuse to touch her might be looked on as a problem. Shaking his head to dislodge that thought, he said, "Look, I saw a café just down the street. Why don't we go have some lunch and get this situation taken care of?"

"Fine." She headed for the glass doors and walked outside when they swished open automatically. She stopped on the sidewalk and pushed her hair out of her eyes when a cold Richmond wind tossed it into the air. Looking up at him, she asked, "Tell me this much first. Are you about to make me happy? Or is this going to screw up my world?"

Damon looked down into eyes shining with trepidation. "To tell the truth, maybe a little of both."


	3. Chapter 3

"You must be crazy," Elena said fifteen minutes later.

The outdoor Italian café sat at the corner of a busy intersection in downtown Richmond. Only a few of the dozen small round tables covered in blood red tablecloths were occupied by people stopping for an early lunch. Inside the restaurant there were less hardy souls, diners not wanting to deal with the capricious wind. Porto Fino was one of Elena's favourite places, but now she was sure this visit was going to forever take the shine off the restaurant for her.

Staring across the table at the man who watched her through steady eyes, she repeated what she had said only moments before. "You are wrong. This is crazy. I am not Grayson Gilbert's illegitimate heir."

Their waiter came up to the table just as she finished speaking and Elena felt heat rush up her neck and fill her cheeks. She only hoped the man hadn't heard her.

Oh, God, this just couldn't be happening. This was absolutely crazy. How could her world be turned upside down within a few minutes?

"Iced tea for the lady," the waiter was saying as he divested his tray of drinks, "and coffee for the gentleman. Have you decided on lunch?"

"No," Damon said. "We need a few minutes."

"Take your time," the young man told him, then gave them each a smile and left them alone with their menus.

Elena didn't even glance at hers. She wasn't sure she would ever be hungry again. She grabbed her tea, took a long drink to ease the dryness in her throat and then set the glass down. Keeping her voice low enough that Damon was forced to lean across the table to hear her over the discordant hum of traffic, she said, "I don't know what this is about, or what you are up to, but…"

"If you will hear me out, I will try to explain."

He looked as if he wished he were anywhere but there and Elena knew exactly how he felt. She wanted nothing more than to jump up, vault over the iron railing separating the café tables from the sidewalk and disappear into the crowds. But since that wasn't going to happen, she told herself to remain calm and listen to him. Once he was finished saying his piece, she would simply walk away and put this hideous conversation out of her mind forever.

He threw a quick glance at the table closest to them as if to assure himself he wouldn't be overheard, and then he looked back to Elena. His blue-grey eyes shone with determination as he said quietly, "I realize this is a shock—"

"It would be if it were true," she allowed.

"It is true, Miss Gilbert." His voice dropped another notch. "Would I be here if this were all some elaborate joke?"

"Maybe," she said. "For all I know this is some sort of extortion attempt or something."

Now those blue-grey eyes of his fired with indignation. "I'm a legal advisor. I'm here at the behest of my late employer. He was also a family friend. It was his final wish that I come to you personally to deliver this news."

Elena nodded, seeing the insult her jibe had delivered and said, "Fine. It is not a joke. But it is a mistake. Believe me when I tell you, I'm not related to Grayson Gilbert."

"Correction. You are Grayson's only daughter."

"Correction," she retorted smoothly. "He is not my father. I don't know him."

"What did you know about your father? Do you know his name?"

Her mouth opened, but no words came forth. She closed it again.

"What did your mother tell you about your father?" he asked gently.

She was silent for a long moment.

"Mum hardly talked about dad when she was still alive," she said eventually. "I only know they were never married."

"Grayson was your father. I have documentation to back me up."

She took a breath of the cold, clear air, hoping it would brace her for what was coming. If this was a mistake, she would find out soon enough. If it was all true, she needed to see proof. "Show me."

He delved into his briefcase and handed her a smaller manila envelope than the one he'd shown her earlier at her office. Warily, she took it, her fingers barely touching it, as if she half expected the thing to blow up in her hands. But it didn't and she opened the clasp and slid free two sheets of paper inside.

The first document was a letter. Written to Grayson Gilbert and signed by… Elena's mother. Her heart lodged in her throat as she stared at the elegant handwriting. Her mother had died from cancer when she was still in high school. Miranda Sommers had kept a journal though, one that had been passed on to Elena when she was seventeen. She had spent hours reading those pages, so she recognized that beautiful, familiar handwriting and it was almost as if her mother were there with them at the table.

The note was brief, but Elena felt the grief in the words written there.

My dear Grayson,

I wanted you to know that I don't regret our time together. Though what we shared was never meant to last, I will always remember you with affection.

I know your parents have asked you to choose between me and your inheritance. It would be very selfish of me to ask you to walk away from a fortune without a backward glance. Therefore, I have made a decision. I will leave you.

That said, I will look after our child. I will promise to love her with my heart. You will find someone again in the future. And so I ask that you stay away and let us rebuild our lives. It's best for all of us.

Love,

Miranda

Shock faded into stunned, reluctant acceptance as Elena's eyes misted over with tears. Not once in her journals had Miranda ever even hinted at the relationship she had had with Grayson Gilbert. Yet these few, simple words were impossible to deny even as the page before her blurred and she blinked frantically to clear her vision. Slowly she traced the tip of one finger across the faded ink, as if she could actually touch her mother.

Damon was sitting there across from her and not speaking, and for that she was grateful. If he tried to say something kind or sweet or sympathetic, she would lose what little control she was desperately clinging to.

She lifted her gaze to look at him and said in a last-ditch attempt to avoid the inevitable, "How do I know my mother actually wrote this letter? For all I know you have had it forged for your own reasons."

"And what could those be?" Damon asked. "What possible reason could the Gilbert family have for lying about this?"

"I don't know," she admitted as she frantically tried to come up with something, anything that might explain all of this away.

"Look at the photographs," he urged, taking a sip of his coffee.

She didn't want to, but didn't know how to avoid it. Pretending this day had never happened, that Damon Salvatore had never appeared at her office, wouldn't work. Hiding her head in the sand wouldn't change anything. If this were actually true, then she had to know. And if it were all some elaborate lie, then she had to know that, too.

Nodding to herself, she looked at the photographs and found herself staring at a picture of two people. One of them was Miranda Sommers. She was smiling down at the infant she held in her arms. Elena knew she was the infant. There were also photographs of Miranda and a man.

"That's Grayson Gilbert," Damon said. "Your father."

She realized that her vision was blurring as she stared at the photos. Irritated, she blinked rapidly a few times and her normally excellent eyesight was restored.

"I'm sorry this is so hard." His voice was without inflection, but she thought she caught the sheen of sincerity in his blue-grey eyes. Still, his being sorry didn't change anything.

"I don't even know what to say," she whispered, staring at the photographs.

"Miss Gilbert…Elena," Damon said, "I know you are having a hard time with this."

"I don't think you could have the slightest idea," she told him.

"Fair enough," he said. "But I do know that your biological father regretted never being able to know you."

"Did he?" She shook her head, unsure just what she felt about Grayson Gilbert. What kind of man who would let his woman go without a fight? Had Miranda's letter really kept Grayson Gilbert away? Was he that easily put off? Had his relationship with Miranda and Elena's birth meant nothing to him?

As if he knew exactly where her thoughts had taken her, Damon said, "Grayson was never married."

"Because he only cared about his inheritance," she said dryly.

Damon said, "It was a difficult decision for Grayson to make—"

"And that excuses him?"

"No, it doesn't," he said, his features tightening even as his voice grew clipped. "I'm simply trying to explain it to you Grayson never got married because he only loved your mother. He had never forgotten about her and you."

"I'm surprised he would have time to think about us," she said. "Not one word from him my whole life and now I'm supposed to be grateful that my biological father is popping up after his death?"

"He didn't contact you because he had promised your mother to stay away."

"He kept his promise."

"Exactly. Don't think you weren't on his mind, though." Damon folded his hands around his coffee cup. "I knew him for a lot of years and I can tell you that to him, family was most important. It must have driven him insane knowing you were here and completely out of his reach."

"But even when he knew he was dying, he didn't get in touch with me." Elena wasn't sure how she felt about that. If Grayson Gilbert had contacted her, would she have believed him? Would she have welcomed him? She couldn't say.

Frowning, the man across from her admitted, "I know it is difficult to understand what Grayson was thinking. I couldn't understand it myself, too. I know your father. He would never go back on his word. He had promised your mother he would stay away and he did, although I believe it cost him a great deal to keep that promise."

"I will have to take your word for that, won't I?"

"Yes. Ask around, Elena. Anyone who has ever done business with your father will tell you that his word was his bond."

Elena said nothing.

Their waiter appeared with a coffeepot to refill Damon's cup, but when he would have stayed to take their order, he was waved away again. "Look," Damon continued when they were alone again. "Just do me a favour and read the other letter in that envelope before I say any more."

She really didn't want to. What more was there to tell? What in her life was left to shake up and rearrange? Yet, morbid curiosity had a grip on her now and Elena knew she would have to satisfy it.

Somehow, she wasn't surprised when she glanced at the bottom of the page and saw the name Grayson Gilbert in a bold signature. Lifting her gaze to the top of the paper, she read,

My Dear Elena,

I know how you must be feeling right now and I can't blame you. But please know that if I had been given the opportunity, I would have loved you as I cared for your mother.

People—even parents—aren't perfect. We make mistakes. But if we get the chance we try to correct them. This is my chance. Come to Mystic Falls. Meet your other family. And one day, I hope you will be able to think of me kindly.

Your father,

Grayson Gilbert.

Again her eyes misted over. She had never known her father.

"Did you read these letters?"

"No. Alaric gave them to me in the closed envelope and they have stayed sealed up until just now."

She looked at him. "And I'm supposed to take your word for that, too?"

He met her gaze. "I will never lie to you, Elena. That is one thing you can depend on."

Since she had only just discovered that her entire life had been based on a lie, that should have been a comforting statement. On the other hand, she didn't know if the statement itself was a lie.

"How do I know you mean that?"

He smiled. "Guess you will just have to trust me."

A headache burst into life behind her eyes and Elena knew it was only going to get worse. So, it was best if she just finished this meeting as quickly as possible. Then she could get away. Think. Plan. Try to make some sense out of this insensible situation.

Pushing her hair out of her eyes as the wind whipped it into a frenzy, she said, "All right. Say I believe you. I'm Grayson Gilbert's daughter. What now?"

He reached down for his briefcase, opened it and extracted the manila envelope he had shown her earlier. "As a beneficiary of Grayson's will, you receive an equal share of his estate."

"What?"

He gave her a small smile. "The estate's been split between his brother, his cousins and you."

Elena sighed and took a gulp of her iced tea. "I can imagine how news of me went over at the reading of the will."

"As you might guess. Surprise. Shock."

"Sounds like we will have a lot in common," she said wryly, still reeling from the information overload she had experienced.

"More than you might think," he told her as he slid the envelope across the table toward her. "There is an additional thing you need to know."

"Of course there is," she mused, laying her fingertips atop the will as if she needed the physical contact to assure herself that this was all for real.

"You will take over Grayson's place as the president and CEO of Gilbert Ridge."

"What?"

"You have to move to Mystic Falls."

"Move to Mystic Falls?" She glanced around her at the city she had grown up in and loved. The city sidewalks were at the bottom of canyons built of steel and brick. Sly sunlight poking through grey clouds appeared and disappeared as if performing magic tricks. Crowds of pedestrians hustled along, everyone hurrying, fighting the wind and the snarls of traffic. Car horns blared, music from a street corner musician peeled out and somewhere close by, a tiny dog yapped impatiently.

The city was hers.

What did she know about Mystic Falls?

But was that even the point? How could she not go? Yet, if she did, how would her aunt and her friends?

Damon watched her features and knew just by looking at her that her thoughts were tumultuous. Why wouldn't they be, though? He had known that what he'd had to say to her would shake the foundations of her life. Make her question everything she had ever known.

And he still resented the hell out of the fact that Grayson had left this mess in his hands.

"You don't have to make any decisions right now," he said after a few long minutes had passed.

She gave him a reluctant, half-hearted smile. "That's good, because I don't think I could."

Nodding, Damon offered, "Why don't you take a few days? Make your decision, then call me." He scribbled his cell number on the back of his business card, then handed it to her. "According to the will, you have got a couple of weeks to take up your place at the resort. Use the time. Think about what you want to do."

She held his card and ran her thumb over the embossed lettering in a slow stroke that mesmerized Damon. His body stirred and he shifted uncomfortably on his chair. He didn't need this attraction to her and wished he could shut it all down.

Unfortunately, the longer he was with her, the stronger that attraction became. What he would like to do was blow off the business talk, take her for an elegant meal and then off to his hotel where he could lay her down across his bed and they could spend a couple of hours enjoying themselves. If she was any other woman, that was exactly what he would do.

That thought made him even more uncomfortable than he had been before.

Elena Gilbert was off-limits and if she ended up going to Mystic Falls—which he thought she would—then his body had better get used to living with disappointment.

"A decision," she said softly, locking her gaze with his. "We both know what that decision will be."

"I think I do," he told her. "You are going to accept the conditions of the will."

"How can I not?"

He smiled in approval. "You have more of your father in you than you know."

"Which one?" she asked.

"Does it matter?" he countered.

Damon studied the woman across from him and tried once again to take a mental step back from the raging lust pounding through him. He had never had such an immediate reaction to any woman before, and it was disconcerting as hell when he was trying to concentrate on business.

Her face was an open book. Every emotion she felt was written there for the world to see and he had to admit that he liked that about her. There were no artifices. What you saw with Elena Gilbert was what you got. She was so real.

She was strong, as well. The kind of news he had just delivered might have flattened most women, but she was already finding a way to deal with it. Might not be easy, but he didn't think she was the kind of woman to run from a challenge. Her brown doe eyes shone with tears she refused to shed and that, too, struck a spark of admiration in him. She could control her emotions, which would be good once she hit Mystic Falls.

Dealing with a whole new family wouldn't be easy, but he was willing to bet she would make it work. But he had to wonder how the other Gilbert family members were going to handle it. They had all been shocked of course. He hadn't counted on the outright hostility he had sensed from John and Christopher. But Samantha could be different. If she tried taking her outrage at Grayson out on Elena, Damon would just have to stop her.

Surprised at the thought, he realized that he was feeling…protective of her. Which didn't make a bit of sense since he had only just met her. But there it was. She'd had her whole life turned upside down and inside out and damned if he would let the Samantha make her feel even worse about it.

"Is there something else you are not telling me?"

He looked at Elena. "What? No. Why do you ask?"

"Because you suddenly looked fierce enough to bite through steel."

"Oh." Apparently his legendary poker face, his ability to mask his emotions, was slipping today. "No, it is nothing. I was just thinking about some business I have to take care of back in Mystic Falls."

"Right. You live there, too."

"I do." He smiled to himself. "I grew up there but I left town when I went to college. I only worked for your father in the past few years."

"I see."

"I'm the legal advisor for Gilbert Ridge." He shrugged and expanded on that a little. "Mystic Falls is a nice small town but it is expanding rapidly in the past ten years."

"So you knew my—" she stopped and rephrased what she'd been about to say "—Grayson Gilbert a long time."

"Since I was a kid. My father and Grayson were good friends."

"So you know his family, too."

"Sure. We didn't hang out together, but I knew them."

"What are they like?"

"You know," he said, glancing around for the waiter that had apparently given up on them ordering lunch, "we should get a meal while we talk."

"I'm not hungry, thanks."

"Oh." He should have figured she would still be too shaken to eat. "Are you sure?"

"I am. Just tell me how they took this news. Are they furious? Am I going to be facing a firing squad in Mystic Falls?"

He gave her a smile he hoped was reassuring. "Nothing so dramatic. I admit they were as stunned as you. But they will deal with it."

She took a deep breath and blew it out again. "I suppose we will all have to."

There it was, he thought, that thread of steel running through her slender, feminine body. "I have to say, I'm surprised at how well you are taking this. I actually expected you to need more convincing."

She shook her head and thought about that for a moment before answering. When she did, her voice was soft and low. "I lost my mother when I was seventeen. And I have never known my father." Her eyes met his and Damon felt the power of her stare slam into him. "I don't expect you to understand this, but I feel as though I have to go. Not for the inheritance. I don't need Grayson Gilbert's money. I have to go for me. I have to find out who my father really was."

Damon had the oddest urge to reach across the table and cover her hand with his. His palm actually burned to touch her, but he resisted, somehow knowing that one touch would be both too much and not enough. Instead, he kept his voice deliberately businesslike as he said, "I do understand. You have to find out who was the man your mother fell in love with."

She tipped her head to one side and studied him. "You do understand." After a long moment, she turned her head to look out at the street pulsing with life behind them. "Until this morning, I thought the biggest problem facing me was making sure our company will ensure the upcoming events are successful. Now, I don't know what to think."

"Maybe you should give yourself a break. Don't try to figure anything out yet." He saw confusion and hurt in her eyes and he didn't like the fact that it bothered him. "All I'm saying is, wait. Go to Mystic Falls. Meet your other family. Take some time."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Before I can do that, I have to talk to my aunt," she said. "I need to hear what she has to say about this."

"Of course." He stood up as she did and held out one hand toward her. When she slid her palm against his, heat skittered up the length of his arm to reverberate through his chest. Instantly, he released her hand again. "I will be flying back to Mystic Falls tomorrow, so if you have any other questions, I'm at the Hyatt."

She smiled. "I love that hotel. Good choice."

"Nice view of the city," he admitted. As she picked up her purse and the manila envelopes he had given her, Damon heard himself say, "Call me when you are ready to come to Mystic Falls. I will tell you what to expect when you arrive."

"I will." She swung her purse up onto her shoulder, held on to the manila envelopes he had given her and said, "I guess I will be seeing you again soon, then."

"Soon." He nodded and stood there alone to watch her leave. Sunlight slanted through a bank of clouds and dazzled her hair with light. Her hips swayed and his gaze fixed on her behind so he could enjoy the view.

The next time he saw her, they would be in Mystic Falls. Surrounded by the Gilbert family, he would be forced to keep his distance from her, and Damon didn't like the thought of that at all. He had a feeling that cleaning up the mess Grayson had left behind was going to be a lot harder than he had believed it would be.


	4. Chapter 4

At seven-thirty that evening, Elena stepped out of the elevator into a corridor decorated in shades of tasteful beige and walked down the hall toward the door of her apartment. She opened the door and walked into the apartment.

 _I'm an adult. I can deal with this,_ she thought.

Elena had never resent her mother for not talking about her father. Not only she idolised and adored her mother with the passion of a child who had grown up single parent. She constantly worked toward being as good at everything as Miranda had been, so she would be a worthy daughter.

Miranda was very affectionate with her. She had never once let Elena spend her birthday or any special celebration alone. Though they had never discussed it openly, Elena knew it was her mother's attempt to compensate for the fact that Elena didn't have a father.

She had always wondered why her father would leave her mother since her mother was such a special person. Today, she had discovered the reasons behind.

Did Aunt Jenna know the truth? Jenna was Miranda's younger sister and they had been close. Elena was lucky to have Aunt Jenna, of course after her mother died of cancer when she was still in high school. It wasn't every aunt who would be willing to take care of an orphaned niece. Had Aunt Jenna known the truth all along? Was she the only one who had been in the dark?

It was time to find out.

Might as well get this over with fast. She braced herself and dialled the number of the hotel room in Bahamas.

"Hey, Elena," came Aunt Jenna familiar greeting.

"How is my girl?" Jenna asked. "Did you have a nice day?"

Nice day. Two words rattling around inside her mind. Confusing day. Terrifying day. Nice? Not so much. Now that Jenna was on the line, Elena's stomach was churning. What was she going to say? What could she say? "I'm not too sure."

Tears stung at her eyes, but she blinked them back. She hadn't cried in front of Damon Salvatore and she wouldn't cry now. For one brief moment, Damon's gorgeous face rose up in her mind and Elena thought if only he hadn't been there to tear down the foundations of her life, she would have been seriously attracted to him. But it was hard to notice a hum in your body when your heart was breaking.

"Darling, are you okay?" Jenna sounded concern now. "What on earth is wrong?"

"Nothing, Jenna," she lied. God, she couldn't do it. This was harder than she thought.

"Don't give me that," Jenna said. "You know damn well I won't buy it. Tell me the truth."

"I'm just feeling a little blue."

"Elena, please, this is Jenna you are talking to. Tell me what is wrong."

There was a short silence, and then Elena sighed.

"I had two visitors today. Lawyers from Mystic Falls."

"Lawyers from Mystic Falls?"

Elena flopped down on the sofa and stacked her heels on the coffee table. "They told me some things. Things I need to talk to you about."

"Is something wrong? Jesus, you are making me nervous now, Elena."

"Grayson Gilbert left me an equal share in his estate."

There was another brief pause.

"So it is true?" Elena asked, her voice grim. "Grayson Gilbert was my father?"

Another short silence hummed on the line.

"I suppose I will have to tell you everything now," Jenna said eventually. "In my heart, I knew that sooner or later, somewhere, someday, you will find out the truth."

"So he really was my father?"

"Yes."

More silence.

"Why have you never mentioned about my father?" Elena asked.

"I don't know. I didn't think it was relevant, I guess."

Elena didn't buy Jenna's nonchalance. "Did that have anything to do with why Mum and he were never married?"

For a moment she didn't think Jenna was going to answer.

"Your mother was twenty when she met Grayson Gilbert and he was twenty one. Grayson was visiting a friend here in Richmond. They met at the theatre. Introduced by mutual friends," Jenna said. "They fell in love. Love at first sight. That was what your mother told me."

Jenna was quiet for a moment. Elena could almost hear her thinking about the past.

"When his parents found out your mother was pregnant, they told him to choose her or his inheritance," Jenna said eventually. "Your mother didn't want him to choose. So she left."

"You don't think that's something I might have wanted to know?" Elena couldn't believe she was first finding out about this after all these years.

"I know." Jenna sighed. "But your mother had insisted to keep you out of this. You know what they say - you got to do what a mum's got to do."

"I know."

"She wanted you to be happy."

As a girl, she had dreamed of a daddy who doted on her. After all, she was the only child who was living with her mother.

"He wanted me," she said softly, more to herself than to Jenna.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning," Elena said, "that he had never forgotten about Mum. He had never forgotten about us."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." Elena paused. "To be frank, I think I should go to Mystic Falls to meet his family."

"Are you sure?" Jenna paused as if gathering his scattered thoughts, then said, "Your mother wouldn't want you to go. She would want you to stay here."

Would she? Elena wondered. Or would her mother understand the need to discover her roots? God, what a clichéd way to think of this. But wasn't it true? Wouldn't she be exploring her past so that she could figure out her future?

"I love you, Jenna," she told Jenna. "But I'm going to Mystic Falls. I have to. To meet his family."

There was a heavily freighted pause on the other end of the line.

"I guess you are right," Jenna said finally. "They are your family."

"You are my family, too, Jenna." Elena blinked away the moisture that was blurring her vision. "I will never forget about what you have done for me all these years after Mum died."

"No matter what happens, you belong here, this is your home," Jenna said. "Just don't ever forget that."

x x x

"So what is she like?"

Damon looked up from the desk in his office at the Gilbert Ridge and smiled at Isobel Gilbert. She wore a white silk blouse tucked into a dark green skirt. Her heeled sandals gave her already five-foot-six height three extra inches and her brown eyes were sparkling with excitement. She shook her long fall of dark brown, almost black hair back from her face, planted both hands on the desktop and leaned toward him.

Looked as though he wouldn't be getting much work done, he told himself. Isobel was bound and determined to get information on her new niece and until he surrendered to the inevitable, Damon knew the woman wouldn't be going anywhere.

"Come on, Damon, give a little," she prodded.

He raised his brows. "Did John send you here?"

Isobel shook her head. "I'm just curious. Tell me, Damon."

"I already told you she seems very nice," he said.

"Nice doesn't tell me a lot." She straightened up. "Does she look like Grayson?"

Maybe it was emotion, Damon thought, trying to be analytical. It did things to her brown doe eyes, made them even more vivid. "In a way, yes."

"Is she funny? Boring?"

He didn't remember her being boring, he thought. Would have been easier on him if she had been. But no, Elena Gilbert had to be strong and intelligent and—not helping, he told himself. "She is…nice."

Isobel laughed. "Honestly, you are hopeless. You make a terrible spy."

"Good thing I'm a legal advisor then," he said and shifted his gaze back to the papers on the desk. His brief hope that he had satisfied her curiosity and would be allowed to get back to work was shattered a second later.

"Fine. As a legal advisor, give me a description. Tell me how she reacted. What she was thinking. Something," she begged.

Sitting back in his chair, Damon looked across the room at Isobel, John's wife who had been managing the spa here at the resort since she married John. Since she was also a yoga instructor, she had included yoga retreats at the spa, as well.

"What do you want to hear?"

"I don't know," she said, smiling again. "John and I have been married for almost twenty years. I treat Grayson as my brother. It is kind of strange to know he had a daughter."

"I know what you mean."

"If she is Grayson's daughter, I want to know more about her.'

"She is Grayson's daughter," he pointed out gently, thinking back on that one day he'd had with Elena. Not like he hadn't been doing a lot of thinking about her ever since they first met. On the flight home, he had almost convinced himself that the instant attraction he had felt for her wasn't as overwhelming as he had believed. But then Elena had called him that night to tell him she would be arriving in just a few days.

There was a disturbing sensuality about Elena that heated Damon's blood when he heard her voice. It was an earthy, elemental thing that defied explanation. He found himself inexplicably drawn to the feminine force in Elena. It fascinated him, intrigued him, and seemed to resonate perfectly with an element deep within him.

"Right," Isobel said. "How did she react?"

"She was surprised. As shocked as all of you were to hear about her connection to the family."

"Poor thing," Isobel murmured, her soft heart showing. "I can't even imagine having that curve ball thrown at you."

Damon thought for a moment. "How is John? Is he going to accept the fact that he has a niece?" he finally asked in a rather tentative voice.

"I'm not sure," she said with surprising honesty. "But John loves Grayson. I'm sure he will welcome her to the family without any hard feelings."

Damon smiled at her again. She was going to be an ally for Elena. A safe harbour in a strange new world. And that was a good thing. He had a feeling she was going to need friends. In their communications with him, Melisa and Christopher weren't exactly warming up to the idea of a new family member. And as for Samantha…he would know when she arrived what her attitude was going to be.

"I think it is safe to say it hit her hard. She is strong though," Damon told her. "Just like Grayson. But she has got a soft side, too," he mused, remembering the sheen of tears she had managed to keep at bay when they had been talking.

"Do I detect some interest there?" Isobel asked.

"What?" He straightened up and glared at her. Damn it, he couldn't afford to relax his guard for a minute around her. She was way too perceptive. "No. You don't. Besides, that would be inappropriate."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Damon," Isobel said with a sad shake of her head, "you sound like a Puritan or something."

"I'm not and I'm also not discussing this with you. Don't you have a spa to run?"

Frustrated, she huffed out a breath. "Honestly, men are the most bizarre creatures."

"Thanks so much. Goodbye."

"Oh, I'm going," she said, smiling now as she headed for his office door. "But don't think this ends the conversation, Damon."

Damon shook his head, half impatient and half sympathetic. "Women," he growled.

"Men," Isobel growled back.

Once she was gone, he leaned back in his chair again and told himself to shape up. He couldn't afford to show any of the Gilbert family members that he was attracted to Elena. With the board of directors due to meet in a few months, he couldn't afford to start rumours.

If social dinners with interesting women were rare events in his life, the number of affairs he'd had fell into the vanishingly small category. There had been no serious relationships at all since he left FBI.

If she was not Elena Gilbert, he would have given serious consideration to having an affair with her. There was no doubt about it.

 _An affair._ Now there was a concept.

Damon reined in that thought, fast. Never had he been more profoundly grateful for his natural inclination toward calm deliberation than he was at that particular moment.

He never made a move without first thinking through all aspects of a problem. He applied the time-tested method to his personal as well as his work. He knew better than anyone else that his habit of approaching everything with an unemotional, logical detachment was one of the chief factors responsible for his success as a legal advisor.

Which was why it was imperative that the problem of Elena Gilbert stay under the heading of business.

It had been a near thing, Damon realized. A strange, cold feeling twisted through his gut as he acknowledged the close brush with disaster. What really bothered him was the uneasy feeling that Elena Gilbert had the potential for making him ignore his own rules.

She was unlike any other woman he had ever known. She fascinated him. If he had lived in another time and place, an era during which people routinely believed in superstitious nonsense, for example, he would have wondered if she had put some kind of spell on him.

He was aware that his parents were desperate to see him married, desperate to know that the family would continue into another generation. He knew his father believed the country was falling apart because of the younger generation and its lack of respect for good old notions like marriage and children and responsibility.

Damon had not bothered to disabuse his father of that notion, because he was not altogether certain it wasn't true. One had to be damned lucky to find true love.

From now onwards, his relationship with Elena would be limited to business, he thought. Just keep repeating that over and over.

Business.

Nothing else.

No matter how much he wanted her.


	5. Chapter 5

Three days after her lunch with Damon, Elena was on a private plane headed to Mystic Falls. Strange how quickly she had managed to pull this together. Elena had taken a leave of absence from her firm, closed up her condo and put her car into storage. When she called Damon to tell him her plans, he had insisted on sending the family jet for her. She had argued with him of course, but Elena thought as she looked around her, she was glad she had lost that argument.

The plane was furnished with both elegance and comfort in mind. Thick, sky-blue carpeting covered the floor and the dozen seats were in pale blue leather and more comfortable than any first-class accommodation she had ever seen. There was a flat-screen TV on the bulkhead, a selection of movies for the DVD player and a stereo outfitted with dozens of CDs. There was also a uniformed hostess who had served Elena a delicious breakfast before disappearing into the front of the plane with the pilot and co-pilot.

She had the cabin to herself and Elena was grateful for the respite. She had been doing so much thinking and considering over the last few days, had had so many people talking to her and at her, it was nearly a vacation to have some quiet time to herself.

Although, with all of this quality thinking time, she was starting to make herself crazy wondering what exactly she was getting herself into. Damon had said that her new family was eager to meet her.

She had to wonder about that. He was probably just being nice. Why would they be taking this situation any better than she had?

Elena leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Did she make the right decision?

She didn't know, but she couldn't allow anything to stop her from this quest.

"So basically," Elena whispered to no one, "I'm on my own. I can do this," she added under her breath.

Heaven knew this was the greatest adventure she had ever undertaken. She had always done exactly what was expected of her because of her mother. She had gotten a job at Jenna's PR firm after she graduated and began the process of building a respectable life. In fact, Elena had never done a single thing on impulse. She had been the good little girl, doing the right thing. The proper thing.

Pulling up stakes and moving to a new town to live with people she didn't know and help run a resort she had never seen.

It was crazy. Made zero sense. She should be terrified.

But she wasn't.

Elena looked out the window at the earth far below and watched the view change from city to mountains and plains and felt a stir of excitement rise up inside her. This was new. Fresh. She had a chance here that few people ever had. An opportunity to meet her father's family. She was going to figure out who her father wasand what his family was like.

She picked up her cup of coffee and sipped at it. But for the muffled roar of the engines, the inside of the jet was quiet. She wasn't interested in watching a movie or listening to the selection of music they had on board. In fact, she was actually too restless to sit still. The only thing keeping her in her buttery-soft leather chair was her instinctive fear of flying. And as the time ticked away, Elena's excitement turned into nervousness and she worried about the reception she would be receiving once she landed.

Friends? Or enemies? And how would she be able to tell?

The pilot's voice crackled over the speaker, interrupting her thoughts. "Miss Sommers, please make sure your seat belt is fastened. We are beginning our initial descent and will be landing in Mystic Falls in about twenty minutes."

She nodded as if the man could see her, then smiled at herself.

Only twenty minutes until her new life started.

x x x

He was waiting on the tarmac.

Damon Salvatore looked different than he had in Richmond, Elena thought as her heartbeat sped into a gallop. For one thing, he wasn't wearing a suit. And if she had thought him gorgeous in that elegantly cut business suit, it was nothing to how she felt now.

He was wearing dark blue jeans, black boots, a black pullover collared shirt and a black leather jacket. His dark brown, almost black hair ruffled in the wind and his lazy stance as he leaned against a blue Camaro only added to the "dangerous" air about him.

He walked to meet her as she came down the retractable stairway. A half smile on his face, he stopped at the bottom of the staircase and looked up at her. "How was your trip?"

"Fabulous," she said quickly. "Thank you for sending the jet for me."

"Least we could do," he said and held out one hand to help her down the last few steps. His thumb traced lightly over the back of her hand and his touch felt like licks of flame. His eyes locked with hers and Elena felt a nearly magnetic pull towards the man. For one split second it was as if they were the only two people in the world. His mouth was still curved in that half smile as he added, "It is the Gilbert family jet. You are family."

She laid her free hand against her abdomen in an attempt to still the butterflies that had suddenly decided to swarm inside her. It was a wasted effort. With excitement came nerves and she didn't expect either to let up anytime soon.

"How about a quick tour of Mystic Falls before we go to the resort?"

"I would like that," she said, tearing her gaze from his really gorgeous blue-grey eyes long enough to look around her. Once she did, she gasped.

She glanced around the small—compared to Richmond—airport and the mountains surrounding them. The sky was so blue it nearly hurt to look at it and the white clouds scudding across that sky could have been painted on, they were so perfect. The air was sharp and clean and the relative quiet was nearly deafening to a woman used to the sounds of a city.

"It is beautiful," she whispered, staring out at the mountains that towered over them like guardian angels.

"You know," he said, and she turned to catch him looking at her, "it really is." Then he shook off whatever he was thinking, and gave her hand a tug. "Come on, city girl. Let me show you around."

She was too damn beautiful; that was the problem, Damon told himself. Her hair was caught up in a loose twist at the back of her head. A few tendrils had come free. He felt his insides tighten. When all was said and done, he was a simple man, he thought. He didn't need to see her in slinky lounging pyjamas. The jeans and those little tendrils of hair drifting down around her ear were all he needed to give him an erection.

 _Get a grip,_ he told himself. He knew exactly what he was up against. Temptation.

He kept her hand tucked into his as he led her towards his car. The top was down and it was a perfect day for her to see her new home. He opened the car door for her and said, "We will drive through town, let you get your bearings."

"What about my luggage?"

"They will deliver it to the resort."

"Right." She nodded. "Okay then."

He hopped in on the driver's side, fired the engine and drove out of the airport.

"I can't believe the mountains are so close," she said, pushing her windblown hair out of her face.

"I grew up here so I guess I don't really take the time to look up at them much."

"I don't know how you could do anything else," she admitted.

He followed her gaze briefly, allowing himself to admire the sweep of green that climbed up the mountains ringing Mystic Falls. Like most citizens of Mystic Falls, he more or less took the natural beauty of the place for granted. When you grew up in the middle of a painting, you tended to think everyone else lived with those kinds of views, too.

Damon gave her a quick grin. "I give you two weeks before you stop noticing them, just like the rest of us."

She glanced at him and shook her head. "I will take that bet."

As he drove into the city, he rattled off the names of the businesses crowded along the streets. In the past few years the sleepy little town of Mystic Falls had transformed into an upmarket boutique village. Property values had started to climb in recent years. Most of the old, traditional stores had been replaced with upscale shops and trendy eateries.

"This town has really changed since I moved back from Chicago a few years ago," Damon said. "But it is still Mystic Falls."

"I love it," she said, her head whipping from side to side so she could take it all in.

He threw a quick look at her, saw pure pleasure dancing in her eyes and wondered how he was going to maintain a strictly business relationship with the only daughter of Grayson. As his mind wrestled with his body's wants, he tried to focus on the road and not the way she lazily crossed her legs.

"Which do you like better?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Do you prefer big cities like Richmond or small towns like Mystic Falls?"

"Well," she said as he stopped at a red light, "that is the question, isn't it? Richmond is beautiful, but in a completely different way. I feel so out of my element here."

The light changed, he put the car in gear and stepped on the gas. Keeping his eyes on the road, he said, "You are Grayson Gilbert's daughter, so Mystic Falls is in your blood. Your family goes back a long way here."

"Tell me," she said, focusing on him now more than the city around them.

"I will do my best," he said, thinking back to everything he had heard from his father and Grayson talking about over the years. "The Founding Families founded Mystic Falls back in 1860. The Lockwood, Gilbert, Fell and Salvatore families are the founders of Mystic Falls. Most of the members of the Founding Families are also members of Town Council. Grayson's great-great-grandfather started the resort. Anyway, by 1893, Mystic Falls had banks, theatres, a hospital and electric lights."

"Impressive," she said, half turning in her seat to watch him as he spoke.

"It was. Then the people moved out of the town in the 1900s because of better opportunities at the bigger cities. Jonathan Gilbert refused to go, though. He kept buying more lands and properties, and opened it up as a hotel. There were still plenty of people who wanted to come out here on fishing and hunting trips and Jonathan was set up to take care of them."

"Smart."

"Not a shortage of brains in the Gilbert family, either," he told her. "Anyway, Jonathan managed to hang on. Then the resort really took off in 1946. Then people were discovering the mountains for skiing and the Gilberts were prepared to handle the tourism trade."

"Right place, right time?"

"I guess," he said, "though they hung on through the lean years when everyone said that a hotel in the middle of 'nowhere' was a bad idea. So maybe you could just put their success down to pure stubbornness."

"Tell me about the resort."

Damon nodded. "Like I said, it started out as just the family home, though your ancestor made sure it was the biggest house for miles around. As he turned it into a hotel, the place got even grander. Wings were added off the main building and the Gilbert resort was born." He took a sharp left and steered the car across the Wickery bridge spanning the Mystic Falls River. "And the resort just kept growing. The main hotel is out front and the family residence, Gilbert Manor is right behind it. That is where you will be staying."

She took a breath and nodded. "Okay, what else?"

"There are lodges built on the grounds, some of them actually going up the slope of the mountain. There are standard log cabins, some stone ones. Most of the lodges are small and cosy, one-family deals, but there are much bigger ones too, fully staffed with butlers, maids and cooks."

Her eyebrows rose. "Wow."

"Oh, yeah." He steered the car down a narrow road lined with stands of trees so thick she could barely see through them. "I think you are about to be amazed, Elena Sommers."

She laughed. "What makes you think I haven't been already?"

"It is about to get better," he assured her.

The long drive up to the resort unfolded in front of them. An acre of neatly tended lawn bordered by banks of flowers spilling colour and scent lay in front of the truly impressive Manor.

Elena felt her mouth drop open. "It is a mansion," she whispered, her gaze sweeping up and over the main stone building, then encompassing the wings jutting out from either side. Flowering green shrubs crouched at the base of the Manor and gleaming window panes shone in the sun like diamonds. There were peaked roofs, balconies with iron railings and the aged brick of the structure itself was the colour of roses.

It would have seemed like a postcard, but for the bustle of employees around the circular drive making the whole place come alive. A doorman in a sharp, navy-blue-and-gold jacket spouted orders like a general and bellmen raced to follow them. Luxury cars idled beneath an arched stone covering over the gravel drive as guests stepped from them to be escorted into the hotel.

"This is…" she whispered, still stunned.

"I told you," Damon said. "Amazed."

"That is really not a big enough word," she told him as he pulled under the archway and stepped out of the car. In a moment, Damon was at the passenger side, helping her out. She stood up and did a slow turn, trying to take in everything at once.

It was impossible. She thought she would need weeks to get the whole picture of the Gilbert Ridge. But what she had seen, she loved. Elena had never seen anyplace like it. It was as if she had stepped into a fairy tale. All that was missing was the handsome prince riding up on a black charger.

Then her gaze shifted to Damon. Handsome man in a blue Camaro. The modern version of the fairy tale then, she thought with an inner smile. But he wasn't a prince and she wasn't in need of rescuing. Or was she?

Shifting her gaze to scan the yard, then turning to peek through the open double doors into the lobby, Elena couldn't avoid a quick jolt of nerves that shot from her stomach up to her heart and back again. She was here. About to meet a family she had never known and there was no going back. "Second thoughts?"

She turned to look at Damon and found him watching her with a bemused expression on his face. Funny, she hadn't even met him a week ago and now, he was the one spot of familiarity in a rapidly changing world.

"No," she said firmly, taking a deep breath as she did so. "No second thoughts. I made the decision to come here and I'm going to stick with it."

A flash of admiration lit up his dark eyes briefly and Elena felt warmed by it.

"Good for you," he said, then waved one arm out toward the interior of the hotel. "Ready to see your new home?"

"As I will ever be."


	6. Chapter 6

The honey-coloured wood walls and floors shone like a jewel box in the overhead lights. Framed photos of the mountain taken during every season dotted the walls and there were tables and chairs scattered around the wide lobby. A hum of conversation rose and fell as people wandered around the room and through it all, there was an almost electrical air about the place.

Elena swivelled her head from side to side, looking at everything as Damon guided her across the lobby to a closed door. "This is the private hallway to the family quarters," he told her and took a card from his pocket to slide into the key slot. "You can also use the main entrance of the Manor to get in without passing through the resort."

The door slid open and they stepped inside the hallway. Again, honey-coloured wood set the tone, making Elena think not only of a mountain cabin, but warmth and luxury.

"Your key will be in your suite, waiting for you," Damon was saying. "Your luggage probably beat us here, since we took the scenic route. You will find everything you need in your suite. There is even a small efficiency kitchen there and it has been stocked with the basics."

"Okay."

"There is also a main kitchen on the family level, if you really feel the urge to cook something. But the hotel restaurants will deliver, so you don't have to worry about that if you don't want to."

"Oh, I like cooking," she told him as they stopped in front of another door.

"Really?" Damon punched in some numbers and held the door back for her.

She raised her brows. "What's that face?"

"That face?"

He shrugged. "I'm just a bit surprised to know you like cooking. Not a lot of women enjoy cooking nowadays."

"I said I like cooking," she mused with a smile. "Didn't promise I was good at it."

"Make me dinner some night," he said, then stopped and frowned to himself as if he already regretted the words.

She blinked a couple of times. "Huh? Make you dinner?"

Damn, not the right choice of words, Damon admitted. He could see the deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression in her eyes.

"Business dinner," he said very quickly. "We have got a lot of things to go through. I have got a lot of paperwork you will want to see. Reports and printouts. We should ask Alaric to come along too."

She nodded. "Fine. I think I can manage to make a dinner for three."

"I can pick some take-out if it is too troublesome."

"Oh, sure." Elena stepped into the hall and sighed as she looked around. "It just keeps getting prettier."

The hallway they stepped into was wide, leading off in two directions. Wood floors, walls the colour of fog and a narrow table boasting a cobalt vase stuffed with roses and hydrangeas greeted her. Every few feet, an arched window let in sunlight and provided a view that was breathtaking. But she didn't have enough time to look around and enjoy it.

Damon pointed to the left. "Down there are four suites, and just past them, along the hallway, is the family room."

"Okay…" She noted that there was a large veranda and on there, there were tables and chairs with brightly coloured umbrellas.

No doubt about it, she had walked into a very different world in Mystic Falls than the one she was accustomed to. Then she realized that Damon was still talking and she turned around to watch him and listen.

"Past the family room is the stair that takes you to the master bedroom and five other bedrooms."

She tried to imagine growing up in this place, but it was hard to envision. So much space. So much open land for children to run and play. Smiling, she recalled that as a girl, she had thought the park her mother had taken her to was a veritable wilderness.

"Any of Grayson's family living here now?"

As if he could read the trepidation on her face, he smiled and said, "No. Grayson's brother John and his wife Isobel live in a different lodge but they are close by. His cousins Samantha and Christopher have moved out of here after they finished college but they are still within close proximity."

That was good. Elena would prefer to settle in a little before she was forced to deal with Grayson Gilbert's family.

"Are any of them here now?" Elena tried to steel herself for meeting the first of her new family. Though now that she thought about it, she wished she had a minute to drag a brush through her wind-tossed hair and to put on some makeup and—

"No," Damon said, interrupting her frenzied thoughts. "John had gone for a few days at the moment. He has been flying back and forth a lot to Hampton. He has been building hotels there. An expansion of the Gilbert resort. This time of the day, Isobel is probably busy with the hotel spa and yoga classes."

"What about Samantha and Christopher?"

"Well, like I said, Samantha has her own place in Mystic Falls, but she is here most days because she works for the resort. And Christopher and his wife Melissa live in the farthest lodge from the Manor, but anyone here can tell you where that is." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, "You won't be meeting them right now."

"Right."

Elena was beginning to understand that the Gilbert family seemed to be close as they had chosen to return to this town to settle down after they had finished their education. Obviously, their loyalty to family meant a lot. And that knowledge made her feel better, somehow. If family was everything to these people, then eventually, she might be able to have a relationship with all of them.

"How big is the Manor?" she suddenly asked, astonished at the length of the hallway.

"As big as the hotel. Including wings," Damon added with a smile.

"Amazing," she murmured as she walked up the stairs after him.

"Yeah, it is. Down here is your suite, plus two more. Farther along this hall, you will find the kitchen, the great room and what was Grayson's office. My office is inside the resort, but I do most of my work at home."

"Right. You don't live at the Manor. Where is your place from here?"

"I grew up in the Salvatore boarding house but I have my own place since I came back here a few years ago."

"The Salvatore boarding house?"

Damon chuckled. "My great-great-grandfather started the boarding house for the poor families who couldn't afford to have their own homes. They only had to pay when they had money. But the business ended when my grandfather was born."

"You said you only came back to Mystic Falls a few years ago. You were in Chicago all these years?"

"I worked for the FBI in the past," Damon said.

"Sounds exciting."

"I'm not a cop anymore, I'm a legal advisor," he said coolly. "I don't see much action."

She was curious. Something bad must have happened to him. "What makes you give up your job?"

He shrugged. "I spent months in ICU. Took a bullet in the chest."

Elena gasped. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It has been a long time," he said.

Even though it had been a long time, it didn't mean it didn't happen and that it didn't leave some major wounds. _You heal from wounds, if you are lucky,_ she thought, _but there are always scars._

He surprised her with a smile. "In fact, I'm actually glad to be back here. It is home."

"You are not staying at the Salvatore boarding house?" she asked.

"No. But my parents are." He steered her towards one of the high, arched windows lining the hallway and pointed. "See the red roof just past that tall pine?"

She did. The building couldn't be more than a fifteen-minute walk from where she was standing. "Close."

"It is. So if you ever need anything…"

He was standing so near, she felt heat radiating from his body towards hers. He smelled so good, she wanted to breathe deeper and when she looked up into those blue-grey eyes, she had the strangest desire to lean in and…What was she thinking? Didn't she have enough going on in her life at the moment?

"Thanks," she said abruptly, taking a safe step back from him. "I will keep that in mind."

He watched her for a second or two and Elena wondered if he could tell what she had been thinking. If he could see that she had been wondering what he would taste like. If his lips were as soft and warm as they appeared to be.

But if he did know, then he was as determined as she to not draw attention to it. He scrubbed one hand across his face, then waved one arm out in front of him in silent invitation to continue on down the hall. He walked beside her and the heels of their shoes sounded out like gunshots in the stillness.

When he finally stopped in front of a door and opened it, Elena stepped past him and stopped dead on the threshold.

It was gorgeous, which shouldn't have surprised her. Everything about Gilbert Ridge was breathtaking. But somehow, she hadn't expected her room to be so…wonderful. After all, she was the stranger here and from what she could tell so far, her other family members had been no more thrilled to hear of her existence than she had been to hear about them. She had half expected an ordinary hotel room, lovely, but generic. This, she told herself as she walked farther into the room, was anything but generic.

The living room was done in various shades of blue. Pale blue walls, dark blue, overstuffed furniture, cobalt vases stuffed with flowers dripping heavy scent into the air and navy-blue drapes at the arched windows. The wood floor was dotted with braided rugs in shades of blue and cream and even the fireplace was fronted by tiles that looked like delft.

"Wow," she said and even that word was just so insignificant to the task.

"Glad you like it," he said, moving into the room behind her.

"What is not to like?" She did a slow turn, trying to see everything at once. Then her gaze landed on Damon again. "To tell the truth, I wasn't expecting anything like this."

He grinned briefly and something inside her twisted up tight in response. Really, the man had an almost magical smile. Good thing he didn't use it often.

"What were you expecting? A cell in a dungeon?"

She smiled and shrugged. "No, not that bad, but nothing so…"

"Isobel suggested you stay in this suite. She thought you would like it and your uncle John had no objection."

"No objection." Well, that was something, she supposed. "It was thoughtful of Isobel."

"You will like her. She is looking forward to meeting you."

"And the others?"

He paused for a long moment before he said, "They will come around."

"Just one big happy family, huh?" Funny, her excitement-driven nerves had become anxiety-driven in the blink of an eye. It seemed there were plenty of hard feelings for everyone to get through before they could even begin to relate to each other.

"You have as much right to be here as they do," he told her.

"Do I?" Elena shook her head and frowned as she threw out both hands as if to encompass the entire resort. "They grew up here. I'm the interloper. This is their home."

"You are Grayson's daughter. This is your home, too."

"What was Grayson like?" she asked nervously. "Was he stern?"

"Not bad," he said, crossing the room to stand by her side. "Your father was always busy. He wasn't stern but he was opinionated." Damon smiled ruefully. "He wasn't even my father and he was full of orders about what I should do with my life and the best way to do it."

"Sounds familiar," Elena mused, strolling to the window and staring out at the pool area and the mountains beyond. "I grew up with an aunt much like him."

"Maybe that insight will make it easier for you to understand his family."

"I guess we will see. Seems strange that this lovely place is practically empty. It is sad, somehow."

"Well," Damon allowed, "like I told you, Grayson was never married. The others have their own families and want their privacy."

She sighed a little. "I understand that family dynamics can be complicated."

"You could say that." He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and watched her as she walked to the sofa in her new home.

Damon continued to watch her as she inspected her new home. Something deep inside him that had been in coma for the past few years had slammed into wide-awake mode the moment he saw Elena at the airport.

She looked good. No, she looked better than good, he decided. She looked like exactly what – until now – he didn't know he needed.

He had reminded himself that there was a term for this kind of intense jolt. It was called sexual attraction, and it was merely a force of nature like heat lightning or wildfire – and just as dangerous.

Still, he could not remember the last time he had felt anything this powerful. What he knew for a fact was that there were only two options when it came dealing with forces of nature. A man either ran for shelter or went straight into the storm and to hell with the risks.

But Damon Salvatore didn't do trouble.

He probably should run for shelter.

"You said there was a stocked kitchen?"

"Yep." He pointed. "Right through there."

She went to investigate and off a short hall, she found a two-burner stove, a small refrigerator and several cupboards. The fridge was stocked with water, wine and soda along with fresh vegetables. There was a bowl of fruit on the abbreviated counter and she noticed that the window in the kitchen overlooked an English-style garden.

"Are you hungry?" Damon's voice came from directly behind her.

She turned around to look at him and admitted, "Actually, I am."

"Why don't we go get some lunch downstairs? I can answer your questions and you can meet Isobel at the same time. I will give her a ring."

Her uncle's wife, she reminded herself. The one who ran the hotel spa and yoga classes. Well, that meeting just might kill her appetite, but gamely she said, "Give me one minute to freshen up and I'm ready."

Ready for all of it, she added silently.


	7. Chapter 7

Isobel spotted Damon sitting at a booth in the back of the restaurant. As she got closer, she saw that across from him was a trim, pretty brunette with long dark brown hairs. She looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place her name. Which meant, Isobel thought suddenly, this was the long-lost daughter of Grayson they had all been waiting to meet. Her familiarity was simply that she had something of the Gilbert family stamped on her features.

They hadn't noticed her approach yet, so Isobel took that spare moment to observe her. Pretty, she thought again. But she looked on edge. And hell, who could blame her? All of them were shock like hell to find out Grayson had a daughter.

Yet she had the worst of it, Isobel thought. She probably didn't know she had a father somewhere in Mystic Falls. She was the stranger in a strange land. Isobel couldn't help herself from feeling a flicker of sympathy for her.

Damon caught Isobel's gaze as the woman approached. He also noticed the appraising gleam in the Isobel's eyes as she gave Elena's a quick once-over. He knew Elena was nervous about this meeting, but Damon was glad she would be starting out by meeting Isobel. Grayson's sister-in-law had always had a cooler head than most of the others.

"Damon, good to see you," Isobel said with a smile, but she wasn't looking at him. Instead the woman's eyes were locked on Elena. "And you must be my new niece."

Elena flushed nervously, but she lifted her chin, stuck out her hand and said, "That's me. But I usually go by Elena."

"Elena, I'm Isobel," Isobel said as she shook Elena's hand. "So, you getting settled in?"

"I am, but I think it is going to take me a while to be able to find my way around."

"I'm pretty sure the front desk has maps," Isobel said, giving her a smile. "What do you think of the Manor?"

"It is gorgeous," Elena blurted, looking around the half-full dining room at the guests gathered there. "It must have been great working here."

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Isobel smiled across the snowy white tablecloth. "Damon told us you were in PR back in Richmond."

"Yes, I was."

"That will come in handy, then."

Elena smiled. "I hope so."

"You underestimate yourself. From what Damon has told me, your aunt and the people who work for your company, view you as a leader."

"It is not my company," Elena mumbled. "My aunt owns half of it. I have worked there since I graduated."

"Would you like to order something, Isobel?" Damon asked.

"I would love to have sit here and have a relaxing lunch with both of you." Isobel chuckled. "But there is something in the spa I need to handle. I just drop by to see Elena." She shifted her gaze to Elena's and smiled. "I will be seeing you around."

When she was gone, Elena blew out a breath.

"Wasn't so bad, was it?" Damon watched her as she reached for her water glass and took a sip.

"A little nerve-racking, but all in all, not bad. She seems nice." she admitted. Then she asked, "What did Isobel mean, my PR skill will come in handy?"

Damon had wanted to give her a day or two to get used to being here, but there was no point in putting things off. There was a lot coming up and since she was now expected to take her place in the Gilbert family, she might as well get her feet wet right away.

"The food and wine gala is coming up in a few weeks," he said. "It is a big deal in Mystic Falls. Held every year, lasts several weeks and has foodie and wine lovers in the country and in Europe coming into town to enjoy themselves."

"I have read about it," she said. "And seen some coverage on the news every year, too. It is practically a Mardi Gras type thing, isn't it?"

"Close enough," he told her. "The town depends on the tourism dollars and the gala the Gilbert sponsor is a big part of that. As one of the Gilberts, you are right in the middle of this one."

Her eyes went wide, but she nodded and said, "Tell me."

Again, Damon had to admire how she was able to go with the flow. She was strong, but she had the tendency to bend, not break. Most of the women he had known in his life would still be sitting in Richmond trying to come to terms with everything she had dealt with in the last few days. Not Elena Sommers though. Once her decision was made, she gave it her all.

For a tiny thing, she was formidable.

Her gaze was locked on him and he found himself getting distracted by those auburn depths. By the way she chewed at her bottom lip when she was thinking. Hell, he was distracted by her, period.

Grumbling to himself, his voice was brusque and businesslike as he said, "Christopher is the marketing expert. He has been running the marketing for Gilbert Ridge for many years."

"Big job."

"It is," he said, "and so is yours. You will be the new head of the Ridge's PR department. Until you have settled down and familiarised with the resort, then you will step up as the CEO and president of the Ridge."

When she looked startled, he added, "You will be working with Christopher directly on most of it. You will have your own office at the Manor. The two of you will probably see a lot of each other over the next few weeks."

"Won't that be fun."

Worry had crept into her voice again and he reminded her, "Christopher is pretty laid-back. He is not going to be a hard-ass, so nothing to worry about there."

She took a deep breath. "Hope you are right about that."

"I am. Just as I'm right about thinking you will handle yourself well here."

"Right into the deep end then?"

"Any reason to think you can't swim?" Damon asked and watched as she seemed to consider his question.

Finally, she shook her head, gave him a fierce, bright smile and said, "I will swim."

"I bet you will," Damon said, staring at her as she picked up her leather-backed menu and perused the offerings. He wished to hell he didn't find her more and more intriguing with every passing minute. What was it about this brunette that had his body tied up in knots and his brain overheating?

He gave himself a mental kick in the butt. Her sugar-coated smile and her melting brown doe eyes had caught him completely off guard. They had also started him thinking about things he shouldn't be thinking about.

He had damn well better control his reactions around her. There was too much riding at this stage.

What he couldn't seem to control, however, was his imagination, which threatened to take off with each seductive sway of Elena's hip. She moved like the strawberry roan filly that had grown into her legs the summer Damon turned fifteen. Her stride was all smooth, swaying magic. And her back, side…

Was it the lure of the unattainable?

For Christ sake! He had to stop thinking about her.

She was one woman he couldn't have.

x x x

Two hours later, Elena was alone in her suite. Sunset was deepening into twilight but here in her rooms, the lamplight was bright and she was too wrapped up in what she was doing to even notice the end of her first day in Mystic Falls. Damon had gone back to work after their early meal—excusing himself as quickly as possible with a claim of having to get some work done before morning. Once she was on her own, Elena had done a little exploring.

Now, she sat on the couch in her new living room and looked at all of the magazines, books, postcards and brochures she had spread out around her. She had practically bought out the gift shop downstairs, buying up every item she could find pertaining directly to Gilbert Ridge.

And there had been plenty to choose from. The brochures listed every activity to be found at the resort and the book described the history of the place. She had stared at the black-and-white photos of her grandparents and biological father with a fascination that had kept her captive for nearly twenty minutes. The grainy images of men in worn jeans and cowboy hats were so far removed from the tidy heritage she had grown up hearing about, it was fascinating. She had looked for resemblances between the people in those old pictures and herself and she'd found them. The shape of her eyes, the curve of her mouth. It was odd to see something of herself in people she had never met.

Yet in a weird way, it was almost comforting.

Her family was bigger than she had ever imagined. They had been adventurers, dreamers. Men and women who had come to the middle of nowhere and built a life, a legacy that had lasted. Their dreams had grown and blossomed and had become something very special.

And she was a part of it.

A very small link in a lengthy chain.

When a knock sounded on her door, she was at first surprised, then a second later, a little worried about who might be dropping by. But then, she thought, it might be Damon. He might have decided to come back and take her on a little tour of the hotel. That thought spurred her off the couch and towards the front door. She fluffed her hair, smoothed her shirt and smiled to herself at the prospect of being with him again.

But when she opened the door, Isobel was standing there, holding two bottles of wine.

"Red or white?" she asked, walking past Elena into the living room.

"I'm sorry?" Confused, Elena just watched her.

"Red or white? Which do you prefer?"

"Uh, that depends, I guess…"

Isobel grinned at her. "Good answer. I have just stolen some wine from your uncle's private reserve so that you and I can get to know each other."

Hard to feel out of sorts or uncomfortable with Isobel Gilbert beaming goodwill towards her. Elena couldn't stop herself from laughing softly.

"You stole the wine from John?" Elena repeated, closing the door, then turning to face Isobel.

"Sure did. There may be hell to pay tomorrow, but tonight, we party."

"That actually sounds like a great plan," Elena said, smiling.

Isobel grinned right back. "Just so you know," she said, "if we both drink it, we both face John's wrath."

"Sure."

Isobel laughed. "I really like you, Elena. I think you and I are going to make a terrific team."

Elena felt a bit of her earlier tension slide off her shoulders. Looking into Isobel's eyes, knowing that this welcome was genuine, made her feel that maybe making a home at Gilbert Ridge wasn't going to be as difficult as she had thought it would be.

"You know," Elena said, "I think you are right. So, do you know if they stocked wineglasses in my new kitchen?"

Isobel led the way and threw back over her shoulder, "Since I'm the one who ordered the stocking done, I happen to know that wineglasses were first on the list."

"Excellent," Elena said following her into the tiny kitchen. "I will make some popcorn, so let's start with the white. What do you think?"

Isobel set both bottles down onto the counter. "It is a good choice. John stocks the best sauvignon blanc anywhere in Mystic Falls."

"And how will he feel about us helping ourselves?" Elena asked.

"Guess we will find out. Together?"

"Together," Elena agreed and for the first time since she had arrived in Mystic Falls, felt that there was a real chance she would be able to make her own place there.

Then the two women moved companionably in the small kitchen, getting to know each other as they worked. Halfway through the second bottle of wine—they had decided to open another bottle of white that had been stocked in Elena's fridge—the two women were well on their way to being fast friends.

"You make excellent popcorn," Isobel announced.

"Thank you. I told Damon I could cook."

"And was he impressed?" Isobel shook her head. "No, never mind. Probably not. The only things that impresses Damon are work, work and work."

"You have known him a long time?" Elena asked, settling back into the couch and curling her feet up beneath her.

Isobel was tucked into the opposite corner of the couch. "Yes," she said. "I grew up in Mystic Falls. Everyone in town knows the Salvatore family. Lovely family. When Damon was a teenager, your father took an interest in him. "She took a sip of wine and said, "Grayson had always thought that Damon is smart and has the potential to succeed."

"I heard he used to be a cop."

Isobel nodded. "He took a bullet in the chest. Nearly died. But guess what? The hardest thing was not being injured by the bullet. The one thing that hurt the most was his girlfriend broke off with him while he was still in ICU."

"Oh, that would hurt."

Elena's mind drew up a picture of Damon, battling for his life and his girlfriend had decided to end their relationship at that very moment. It was hard to imagine someone as tough as Damon not fighting for the woman he once loved. She would bet it was he was too sick to fight for it.

It wasn't only his relationship with his girlfriend she was curious about. She wondered what his life had been like before he became a legal advisor. In fact, she just wondered about Damon in general. Thoughts of him were never far from her mind, even though she told herself that now was definitely not the time to indulge in an attraction. She had to find her own footing here. Did she really have time to explore a relationship? And did she dare risk trusting someone so new in her life? Besides, it wasn't as if Damon had made a move. Maybe she was alone in feeling the draw towards him. And if she was, then she would keep it to herself.

"So," she said, "Damon joined Gilbert Ridge after he left the FBI?"

"Yes. Your father had encouraged him to start over in Mystic Falls and soon Damon joined the resort as the legal advisor." Isobel cocked her head to one side. "Hearing me call him your father must be very strange for you."

"It is." Elena thought that was the biggest under-statement of all time. She had hardly had time to wrap her own mind around it. Now finding herself sitting here with Isobel Gilbert was just one more oddity in a world suddenly turned upside down. But despite the craziness, she liked the camaraderie that Isobel had instigated. "Though you are making it easier."

"Happy to help. Trust me, I'm glad to have another female in the Gilbert ranks."

"Thanks," Elena said and meant it. In all the strangeness of her new world, it was good to have at least one person here who seemed to be on her side. Why Isobel had decided to be an ally seemed clear enough. Heaven knew that Elena would have loved to have someone to help her stand against the other Gilbert families occasionally.

"Now," Isobel asked, pointing at the piles of brochures and pamphlets scattered across the coffee table, "what are you doing with all of this stuff?"

Laughing, Elena scooped up one or two of the forgotten pamphlets. "I was trying to learn all I could about Gilbert Ridge."

Isobel took a sip of wine. "There's an easier way. Just ask me."

"Okay, I will as soon as I figure out what to ask."

"Deal. So, Damon told me you are going to work in PR?"

Glad for a respite of talking about her now tangled family ties, Elena said, "Yes, that is what I will be doing here."

"That means working with Christopher. He is easy going, just like his wife Melissa," Isobel said, "unlike his sister Samantha."

"Oh." Elena was worried now. "How is Samantha like?"

"Among the siblings," Isobel told her, "Christopher is more reasonable. Samantha not so much. But she will come around. Just don't let her scare you off."

That didn't sound promising, Elena thought, now even more reluctant than ever to meet Samantha Gilbert. But there would be no way to avoid it and now, knowing for sure that she was going to be less than welcoming, it gave her a chance to prepare. To be ready to stand up for herself as she'd had to do most of her life.

"I'm here and I'm not leaving," Elena told her. "If Samantha is unhappy with that, she will just have to get over it."

"Good for you!" Isobel grinned at her, obviously pleased at her new niece's inner strength. "I'm sure Jeremy will like you."

"Jeremy?"

Isobel laughed softly. "Jeremy is my son. He is studying in Canada at the moment. He won't be back until Christmas. I can bet the two of you will get along fine. You are such an amazing person, Elena."

If only she knew, Elena thought, that right now, her strength was little more than a carefully constructed front. Inside, she was quavering. But she, too, would get over it.

"Now then," Isobel was saying, "there is John, your uncle, aka my husband to deal with, too. But he shouldn't be much trouble. He is very sensible."

"I hope so."

There was a brief silence.

"Anyway, let's move on," Isobel said eventually. "So, PR girl…what do you think about helping me design a new menu of services for the spa?" She grabbed the old one off the coffee table and glared at it. "This one is so generic it is tired. I would like something splashy. Something bright. Oh, and something about the yoga classes as well. Do you do yoga?"

Elena laughed at the rapid-fire statements, grateful that they had left the subject of John behind. Shaking her head, she said, "Yoga? No thanks. I'm just not that bendy. But I would love to work up a new brochure with you. If I have time with the food and wine gala preparations…"

"Oh, yeah," Isobel said. "True. Okay, once you get that going, then we will tend to my little slice of Gilbert Ridge."

"Sounds good."

"So," Isobel said, and lifted her wineglass in a toast. "Here's to us."

"Here's to us," Elena said and clinked her glass against the rim of Isobel's. She could only hope that the remaining meetings with the other Gilbert families would go even half so well.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, John walked into the resort to meet Elena Sommers in Damon's office.

His niece.

Not as far as he was concerned. She was a stranger who shared a little Gilbert DNA. Logically, he knew that she, too, was being manipulated from the grave by Grayson Gilbert. But it didn't make her being here all right. He wasn't sure how he felt about this new niece taking up a place at Gilbert Ridge.

"This is absolutely madness," John muttered as he walked through the crowded lobby, discounting the low roar of dozens of voices locked in conversations. He continued on along the hall towards Damon's office, resenting the fact that he had to be here for this meeting. He had worked so hard for the Ridge and his brother had known it. But then, he thought, that would have been half the fun for Grayson. Upsetting his brother's plans to ensure that his own worked out as he wanted.

"Nothing Grayson liked better than stirring things up and seems like he has done a great job of it this time," he told himself.

He had already talked to Christopher and Isobel about Elena and while Christopher was withholding judgment, to his surprise, his Isobel had come down on Elena's side. Though he appreciated the input, John would make up his own mind and he believed firmly in not putting off what could get done today.

Unlike Samantha. He knew damn well that Samantha had pretended to be sick deliberately this time, not wanting to be here when Elena arrived. She claimed to have a very bad respiratory tract infection where she had to stay in bed for at least a few days.

 _Talk about coincidence,_ John thought.

As if his thoughts had conjured him out of thin air, Christopher pushed away from a wall and lifted one hand in greeting.

"Wasn't sure you would come in," Christopher said. "Thought you were still in Hampton."

"I told you I would be here. Got back late last night."

Christopher smiled. "And you are always exactly where you are expected to be."

"There something wrong with that?"

"No," Christopher answered with a shake of his head, "But don't you ever get tired of leading such a regimented life?"

"It is not—" He broke off, clearly not interested in rehashing the same old discussion.

Christopher admired his cousin brother. Hell, as a kid, he had practically worshipped him. But Christopher had always thought John could be use some shaking up. The man was wound too tight, Christopher told himself sadly. John had tried really hard all these years to prove to Grayson that he had the potential to succeed.

While he, on the other hand, took life as it came, did as he wanted and planned to have no regrets when it came time for him to check out, although he knew his wife Melissa didn't approve of his thinking at times. She had encouraged him to leave Mystic Falls in order to find better opportunities. But Christopher had declined. He loved the town and he would never find better than what Mystic Falls could offer. Besides, he had his house in town, and too many friends to just pack up and disappear.

As for his new family member, Christopher was willing to give her a shot. After all, it wasn't her fault Grayson Gilbert was her father.

"So, you ready to meet her?" John asked.

Christopher snorted a laugh. "You don't have to make it sound like we are going to a hanging."

John sighed. "And you don't have to turn it into a social event."

"It is a social event, man. We are going to meet Grayson's long-lost daughter and unless you are trying to scare her off, you might want to paste a smile on your face."

"You smile enough for both of us."

"You are hopeless, you know that, right?" Christopher asked and then, more seriously, said, "She is probably more upset by all this than we are, John. Maybe you could cut her a little slack?"

"Fine. Slack for the newcomer. No slack for you."

Christopher laughed.

Grumbling, John fell into step alongside his cousin brother and swung past the hotel's business centre. They walked on to Damon's office. The man didn't have a secretary guarding his gate. Instead, he used the employees of the business centre to take care of whatever tasks he needed done. Which made dropping in on him even easier.

After a brisk knock, John opened the door and stepped inside, with Christopher just a pace behind him.

Looking up from his paperwork, Damon smiled. "She is not here yet."

"Late, huh?" John pointed out.

"No," Christopher corrected with a sigh and shake of his head. "We are early." Then he walked into the room and dropped into one of the available chairs. Looking at Damon he asked, "So what's Grayson's daughter like?"

Damon leaned back in his chair and studied the two men. John was standing off to one side, his arms folded across his chest. Christopher, on the other hand, looked the picture of relaxation. The two of them had offered to come in to meet Elena together and Damon had agreed, hoping Christopher's presence would be enough to mitigate John's penchant for aloofness.

"What's she like?" he mused, and instantly his mind filled with images of Elena. Her eyes, her mouth, her delicate, but curvy figure and just how much he wanted her. But an instant later, he shut those thoughts down as quickly as he could. Not exactly the description he could give Elena's family.

"She is smart. Funny. Strong." His gaze shifted from John to Christopher and back again. "She is nervous, as anyone would be, but she is determined to make this a success."

"Why is this so important to her?" John asked.

"Hate to admit it, but good question," Christopher agreed.

Frowning, Damon said, "She grew up without knowing anything about her father. Her mother was never married, just like Grayson. Now that she has been brought into this one, she is focused on making it work. She wants to know her family."

"Focused."

Damon looked at John. "She knows that you guys aren't exactly ready to throw her a welcome-to-the-family party. And from what I can gather, she really wants to figure out her root and there is nothing wrong with that."

"Well, that's telling us," Christopher muttered. "So we have to play nice."

"Exactly," Damon said with a nod. It was important to him that they understand. That they give Elena the chance she deserved. He wasn't willing to explore why it was important to him, though. Point was, "She is innocent in this, you know. If you are pissed that Grayson had an affair with her mother, be pissed at him."

John shifted position uneasily as if he were feeling the stirrings of guilt and didn't like it a damn bit. "I didn't say I blamed her for any of this. It is just a difficult situation. For everyone."

"It is," Elena said softly.

Damon's gaze snapped to the doorway and the woman who stood poised, alone, watching them. He stood up and said, "Elena."

She spared him a quick smile, but it was gone too soon in Damon's opinion. What was it about this woman that grabbed at him? Why was he having so much trouble reminding himself Elena Sommers was off-limits to him?

Christopher came lazily to his feet and John turned to face his niece.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," she was saying as she walked into the room, with her chin tilted defiantly. "But I couldn't help overhearing. Since I was the topic of conversation anyway, I thought it was as good a time as any to introduce myself."

Damon spared brief glances at both of the Gilbert men and he saw John trying to think back and figure out if he had said anything he should apologize for. While, at the same time, Christopher's mouth was quirked in an approving smile.

"Elena," Damon said, coming around his desk to align himself at her side—both physically and figuratively. "John is your uncle and Christopher is Grayson's cousin."

She returned Christopher's smile, then looked at John. They stared at each other for a long minute and Damon could actually feel the tension building in the room. And then suddenly, it was gone as John stepped forward, held out his hand to her and said, "Welcome, Elena."

She only hesitated an instant before shaking his hand. "Thank you. I heard you say this was difficult and you are not wrong. This whole situation has been just as hard on me as it has been on all of you."

"You are right," Christopher said as he came up to join them. "And whatever you heard before you came in, pay no attention. Everybody is a little on edge, being told Grayson had a daughter, it was a big surprise to everybody."

"I understand what you mean," she told him.

Damon felt that stir of admiration for her again for how well she stood up to both of the Gilbert men who clearly weren't eager to have her in the family. Whether she was wanted to be here or not, she had a place at the Ridge. Through birth. Through blood. Because Grayson Gilbert had wanted to bring his child home.

"Once you are settled in, come and see me," Christopher was saying. "We have got the food and wine gala right around the corner now. Most of the marketing and publicity is already lined up and in play. But there are a few things we can still do to give it that final push."

Elena nodded. "I have heard about the gala for years, though I have never attended. I'm looking forward to being a part of it this year. Last night, Isobel showed me some of what you had been doing and it is really fabulous."

Christopher grinned, apparently satisfied.

"But," she added, "I have got a few ideas we might want to try."

His eyes narrowed on her thoughtfully, then after a moment, he gave her a grin. "I like confidence, so yeah, I would like to hear your ideas. Tomorrow work for you?"

"Tomorrow is great."

John interrupted them. "I know this isn't easy on you, being here. Being thrown into the middle of something you didn't even know existed a week ago."

"No," she said, "it is not."

John nodded. "I came in here prepared to not like you," he admitted and smiled when she stiffened. "But I have got a lot of respect for anybody who is not afraid to stand up for him—or herself."

"And I respect anyone who is trying to protect his family," Elena told him. "As for standing up for myself, I have been doing that my whole life."

"I'm getting that," John said with an approving nod. "I think you just might make a place for yourself here…...my little niece."

Elena gave him a careful smile, pleased but clearly not willing to relax her guard just yet. Then the moment was over and the Gilbert men were excusing themselves.

Damon couldn't take his eyes off of her. He hardly noticed when the Gilbert men left. All he saw were two deep brown-coloured eyes watching him with a mixture of nervousness and satisfaction shining in their depths. She was pleased with the way she had handled herself and damned if he wasn't, as well.

He had set this meeting up specifically so that he would be there when she met her family. So that she wouldn't be alone. Not that he didn't believe John and Christopher, even if they were angry about the situation, would be anything but polite. It was only that Damon had wanted her to have his support and know that she had it. He didn't ask himself why that was important to him, he only accepted that it was.

Elena was still nervous, but the others wouldn't have been able to tell. Funny, but he had once thought her features easy to read. Now he knew the truth. Though she might be quaking in her shoes, she would never let anyone know it.

Their first meeting had been different. She had been taken off guard and her shock and stunned surprise had been impossible to hide. But he had learned since that the only real hint to what Elena Sommers was feeling lay in her eyes. There, her emotions shone out loud and clear.

Despite her lifted chin and firm voice, those eyes of hers showed him that she was silently battling her own fears. Yet despite everything, every time she went into battle, she came out victorious. He admired the hell out of that. Almost as much as he wanted her.

Desire was now a constant companion. Haunting him through his sleep, torturing him during the day. Thoughts of her were never far away and his body was in a constant state of arousal. He had never before felt such a powerful pull towards any woman. And every moment he spent with her only intensified those feelings.

"Gee, that went well," Elena said after a moment or two of silence that practically throbbed with unresolved tension.

"Believe it or not, it did," Damon answered. "I think you impressed both of them."

Her gaze fixed on his. "I wasn't trying to impress."

"Maybe that's why you did. Just by being yourself. They respect strength."

She smiled ruefully. "Good thing they couldn't hear my knees knocking then, isn't it?" She walked across his office and looked out the window behind his desk at the sweep of lawn that seemed to stretch all the way to the mountains. "You arranged that meeting specifically so I wouldn't stumble across my…family on my own, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "I thought it would be easier if I were around."

She turned her head to look directly at him. Her gaze slammed into his. "It was. Thank you."

Damon stared into her eyes and it was all he could do to keep from going to her, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her until neither of them could breathe. But somehow he managed. "You are welcome. You have still got Samantha to meet and deal with, but she should be back in a couple of days."

"From what everyone says, I'm not looking forward to meeting her."

"Samantha is alright," Damon told her, not wanting her to be anxious over the last Gilbert hurdle she had to face. "She is not really happy with the situation, but she knows none of this is your fault."

She blew out a breath. "What do you think, Damon? You are the objective observer in all this. Do you think this is going to work out?"

"You being here, you mean?" When she nodded, he walked closer to her. "Yes, I do. You are already making a place for yourself here. Isobel likes you. The Gilbert men will come around."

Elena shook her head and her brown hair brushed against her shoulders. Damon curled his hands into fists to keep from reaching for it. To keep from threading his fingers through that mass and turning her head towards his—

"Why are you on my side in this?" Elena asked. "Isobel says you have known the family since you were a kid. And you were Grayson's personal legal advisor. I would think that would make you more prejudiced in their favour rather than mine."

He backed up a step, leaned against the corner of his desk and said, "Grayson was a family friend and I do respect him. He was kind of a mentor to mer, offering advice and insight in my career when I left the Bureau. But," he added, "that said, I don't owe him or his memory my soul. Just the best job I can do. My allegiances are my own."

She tipped her head to one side and looked up at him. "And you have decided to be my ally."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

"Shouldn't I?"

He shrugged, though it cost him. He wanted her to trust him, but couldn't say that he trusted himself around her. He wanted more than friendship or an alliance with her.

If he had claimed this woman and put his own mark on her, she couldn't run fast enough or far enough to escape him.

Unless he let her go.

He was aware that his parents, feared that he was secretly carrying a torch for his ex-girlfriend. Damon knew that was not the case, but he also knew that he did not want to look too closely at the real truth.

The harsh reality, he thought, was that he had lost his nerve when it came to love.

He tensed, anticipating the little jab of pain that always came with the reminder of how he had let his ex-girlfriend go. His shoulders went stiff, the way they did whenever he thought of his ex-girlfriend. As if it had a will of its own, his mind reached back to those weeks he had hovered between life and death. To the agony that came with each breath pulled into his bullet-riddled lung. To the woman who had fallen apart every time she came to visit him in intensive care.

If he let himself, Damon knew he could summon in precise detail his ex-girlfriend's tear-streaked face. Still hear her sobs as she told him she couldn't marry a cop, couldn't deal with the worry of losing someone she loved.

 _Love hurts,_ he thought.

Business would never hurt.

"Let's just say that I'm on your side because I have had a hand in throwing your life off kilter."

"So, you feel responsible? You don't have to," she told him. "Like I said earlier, I can take care of myself."

"I have noticed," he said, then forced a smile. "Let's get out of here. How about a tour of the grounds?"

"I would like that," she said and took the arm he offered before walking with him out of the office and the hotel.


	9. Chapter 9

They walked for what felt like miles.

Elena was overwhelmed with everything. She was on sensory overload. Gilbert Ridge had to be the most beautiful place she had ever been and it was staggering to realize that she was a part of the legacy that had built it.

The resort was like a small town in and of itself. Narrow walkways, cement pathways bordered by vibrant flower beds, wound past tiny bungalows and lavish cabins. Damon had stopped by his own home to give her a quick tour and Elena had loved everything about it. From the honey-coloured log walls to the braided rugs on the polished wood floors to the overstuffed, brown leather furniture.

He had a river stone fireplace big enough to stand up in and the huge windows in his kitchen overlooked the forest and the mountain beyond. She could imagine stepping out onto the back porch, sitting in one of the rocking chairs there and sipping a morning cup of coffee as she watched the world wake up.

"Nice place," she said.

Damon smiled. "It is my first home. I was renting when I was in Chicago. But I thought it would be good to have my own home when I came back here. Moved in three years ago. Did the decorating myself. My father and brother helped me with the painting and built-ins."

"You have a brother?"

"Stefan is my younger brother. He is now working in New York." He held up a photo frame. "He is a surgeon. Smart guy."

Seeing his home had given her more insights into Damon the man and she relished them. He was neat, but not to the point of craziness. He had actual pots and pans in his kitchen, which meant he at least tried to cook occasionally rather than subsisting on room service or takeout. He had framed family photos hanging on his wall and seeing him as a younger man with one arm thrown across his mother's shoulders told her that he was someone to whom family meant a lot. All good things. And all of those things combined made him even more intriguing to Elena.

"Have a seat." He waved her to the sofa. "I will get you a drink."

"I really like your house," she said as she sat on the sofa. "It suits you."

"I like it too. It feels good to have my own place after all these years." He handed a glass to her. "I only have plain coke. Unless you want something stronger like wine or bourbon."

She smiled at him. "Plain coke is fine."

He sank down in the chair across from her. "What about you? Are you living with your aunt?"

She shook her head. "Jenna got married recently. I have managed to save enough for a down payment. Moved in to my own condo three months ago."

For a few minutes, they sat there without saying a word.

"Do you cook?" she finally asked. "I saw some pots and pans in your kitchen."

"I got used to kitchen when I was in Chicago. It was either a home cook meal or hamburgers and pizza." He laughed softly. "But I'm no gourmet chef."

Elena smiled. "I like to eat at home as well but I'm still no gourmet chef."

Damon did not take his eyes off her. He did not want to take his eyes off her. There was always the kick-in-the-gut shock of excitement that hit him whenever she was around. The grey pullover, black trousers and sleek little flat-heeled shoes looked extremely good on her.

He glanced at his watch. "It is nearly noon. I have got work to do." He tried to sound casual. "But we both need some lunch."

"I'm planning to get a bite to eat first before working on the ideas for the gala." She smiled. "I'm going to make a sandwich when I get back to the Manor."

"I have a loaf of bread," he said. "Sandwich for lunch sounds like a great idea. Just as easy to make two."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "I do have cheese."

"That works," she said instantly, "Thanks."

She looked pleased, Damon decided. Really pleased. Like she had just won the lottery. He was feeling oddly energized himself. What had he just done?"

"Okay." He got to his feet and started towards the kitchen. "I will make some coffee too."

"Why don't I make the coffee and you work on the sandwiches?"

He gave her a brilliant smile. "Good idea."

He found the cheese on the middle shelf of the refrigerator and examined it closely. There was no obvious sign of mould. Relieved, he turned his attention to the half-finished loaf of bread. No green stuff on it, either. Definitely his lucky day.

Elena made coffee while he constructed the sandwiches. It felt good to have her here in the kitchen with him. He wondered how she felt about it.

"Not exactly lasagne and apple pie," he said when he put the plate containing the toasted cheese sandwich in front of her a short time later. "I hope you don't mind."

"It looks great." She sat down across from him and picked up half of her sandwich. "I'm hungry."

He watched her eat the food he had prepared, fascinated. It was just lunch. So why was he feeling a little rattled.

She paused in mid-chew and gave him an inquiring look. "Something wrong?"

"No." Embarrassed, he picked up his own sandwich and bit into it.

They ate in silence for the rest of their meal. As they finished, Damon apologized again for the simplicity of the meal. "I haven't gone to the grocery store in several days, and I had to make do with what I had."

"Don't apologize. It was delicious." Elena glanced at her watch. "I'd better be on my way."

"I will walk you back to the resort."

He didn't have to sound quite so eager to get rid of her, she thought. But it was probably for the best.

"Thanks." She rose quickly, a sense of urgency pulsing through her. She had left it too long, she thought. It was past time to leave.

When they left his house, Elena was more captivated by him than she had been before. She took his arm as he led her on through the resort. He pointed out the cabins where John and Isobel lived. He had shown her the gift shops, the jewellers, the on-site bakery and the ice cream parlour. He had taken her past the pools—both the indoor and outdoor, not to mention the pool built just for kids.

Guests in swimsuits, tennis gear and even riding outfits streamed over the property in a never-ending flood of humanity. Children raced each other across manicured lawns and a couple of elderly guests sat on a padded iron bench beneath a gorgeous cluster of aspen trees.

It was a sunny day, the sky was blue and she honestly felt as though she had stepped into an alternate world. Everything was almost too perfect.

Including the man at her side. He wasn't wearing a suit and tie, just black jeans, a black, long-sleeved shirt open at the throat and a pair of black boots that looked as though they had seen a lot of wear. He looked handsome in a well-cut suit, but Elena thought he looked even more so in casual clothes. It was then a person realized that his personal power wasn't shaped by any outward appearance—not his clothing, his car or his job—but by his own innate strength.

And that, Elena thought, was about the sexiest thing in the world.

She loved how people knew him. Smiled, waved, stopped to speak to him as they walked. He introduced her to managers and housemaids, all with respect and deference. He treated everyone the same and she found that sexy as hell, too.

Now, she had to wonder if part of her attraction for him wasn't because he was good looking or he had been nice to her. But no, even as she considered that, she put it aside. There was much more to what she was feeling for Damon Salvatore.

"So what do you think?"

She looked up at him and loved how the wind had ruffled his dark hair onto his forehead. She just managed to catch herself from reaching up and pushing it back. "Um," she said, gathering up her scattered thoughts, "I hate to keep using the word amazing…."

He grinned, and her breath locked in her lungs. Seriously, when the man flashed an unguarded smile, he was a danger to any woman with eyes.

He pointed off in the distance. "The stables are down there, alongside a paddock, and there are riding trails through the woods. Tennis courts are over there and the golf course is back at the opposite end of the resort."

She laughed to herself. "It is like a little city all in itself."

"Exactly how Grayson saw it, too," Damon said. "We have even got a small clinic on site. Dr Logan Fell runs it. He has got a nurse who helps out and they can take care of any minor situations the guests might have. Of course, anything more serious is treated at the hospital in Mystic Falls."

"Our own medical staff. Wow." She turned from him and stared out at the surrounding cabins and lodges.

"That is the first time you have said 'our' about this place," he commented. "Starting to feel more connected?"

She looked back at him. "I guess I am. It is a little nerve-racking, but I'm excited about it, too, you know?"

"I do," he said, then looked around as she had, as if he were seeing it for the first time through her eyes. Finally, he turned his gaze back on her. "You will make your place here, Elena."

"Yeah," she said, giving him a smile that lit up her eyes. "I will."

He nodded as if he sensed her commitment, and said, "When I quitted from the Bureau, I decided to make this my place."

"Do you miss being a cop?" She asked the question quietly, not wanting to disturb the intimacy of the moment. Despite the fact that they were surrounded on all sides by happy, chattering guests, it felt as though they were alone, just the two of them.

He smiled to himself and tucked his hands into his jeans pockets. "I did miss it at times but it was a stressful job."

She nodded but didn't say anything, encouraging him silently to continue.

"I had joined the police department after I finished university. My parents were very supportive with my decision, although thinking back, my mother was probably not that happy about it." He chuckled. "You know what people think about our job? We are always on the streets dodging bullets."

Elena smiled.

"Anyway…" He took a long breath and released it again. "After spending months in intensive care, I knew I couldn't be so selfish. I couldn't let my parents worry about me all the time. So I went to law school and Grayson hired me as his legal advisor after I graduated."

"I'm sure your parents must be happy now since you are back here."

"Yeah. Can't always let the people you care worry about you. My ex-girlfriend use to complain about that a lot."

Elena felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "Isobel mentioned that your relationship did not work out."

"No."

Another wound, she decided. Not a giant blow, but he had definitely taken a hit. He probably blamed himself for the failure of his relationship.

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"It was a long time ago."

There was a brief silence.

"What about you? Is there anyone else who might object to you holding up for an indefinite period here?"

"Not anymore," she answered. "I actually broke up with a guy a year ago—a man who cheated on me."

"Sorry about that."

She smiled. "We seem to be saying sorry a lot to each other."

"Maybe we should stop saying sorry to each other."

To her surprise, Damon took a lock of her hair between his fingers and stroked it for a moment.

Elena's breath caught as she inhaled the masculine scent of him. He smelled like fresh air, pine, and musky male, and he was intoxicating. Even though she was five-six, she still felt defenceless with him this close to her, and she felt suddenly vulnerable in a way she never had before. Not afraid, but definitely exposed.

For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, but he didn't. Instead, he told her in a husky voice. "Any man who would stray from your side doesn't deserve a second thought." He lightly grasped her chin and turned it upward so her eyes met his. "Don't let any guy mess with your head. He isn't worth it."

Elena fell into the smoky blue-grey depths of his eyes for a moment, mesmerized. His statement had been emphatic, sincere, and had stirred her soul. It had actually been awhile since she'd had the cheating boyfriend, but he really had existed. She hadn't trusted another guy since.

"I-I will try to remember that," she stammered awkwardly, momentarily drowning in his heated gaze.

"You do that," Damon answered in a raspy voice.

"Damon!"

Damon went still. He was vaguely aware that Elena did the same. He pulled his eyes from hers and backed away before he turned his head to see Isobel waving at them.

"I have been looking for both of you," Isobel said as she strolled up to them.

Damon frowned. "What's up?"

Isobel smiled at Elena and moved forward to take her niece's arm. "Samantha called just now. She has suggested we have dinner tonight at the Manor. Christopher and Melissa are joining us too."

A speculative gleam appeared in Damon's eyes. "Samantha suggested dinner?"

"She called me just now, yes," Isobel said.

Damon said nothing as he glanced past Isobel to Elena's face.

"Dinner sounds great," Elena said nervously. "What time will Samantha get here?'

"They should be here by six." Isobel jumped to take advantage of the neutral conversational opening. "I have informed the kitchen in the resort about dinner tonight."

"Sure. Sounds fine," Damon muttered.

"Well," Elena went on with patently false cheerfulness, "I think I should freshen up before dinner."

"That sounds wonderful," Damon said. "I have got work to do. See you at six."

"See you at six."

Elena turned and hurried towards the hallway that led to the Manor. Damon didn't follow, but she could feel his stare track her movements as she got to the hallway—thankfully without tripping on her heels this time—and punched in the code on the panel with more force than necessary.

Once she was gone, Damon turned to face Isobel. "It is going to be a hell of an evening,"

"I can see that."


	10. Chapter 10

Damon didn't realize just how bad matters were going to get until Samantha arrived shortly before six o'clock. Things might have been tense around John and Christopher in the morning, but Elena didn't encounter real hostility until she confronted Samantha Gilbert.

Christopher and his wife were a pair of handsome couple. Christopher shared Grayson's dark eyes and thick hair, but he lacked the muscular build of Grayson and John. Instead, he was slim and dynamic, with a clean-cut, well-dressed, California-executive manner.

Melissa was a lovely blue-eyed redhead. Under normal circumstances, Elena was certain she would have been slender and well-proportioned. Melissa was, however, quite pregnant. Her designer maternity dress shaped a body that had to be very close to nine months along. Her face was wreathed in a genuine smile as she crossed to Elena and extended her hand, "I'm Melissa. You must be Elena."

Elena shook the hand presented her and stared at Melissa, overcome by her open friendliness. "Nice to meet you, Melissa."

"My first child," Melissa gushed as passed her hand over that mound of baby, a small smile on her mouth. "My little boy is due any day now. And I think he is just a big guy like his daddy."

Elena liked her immediately. "Congratulations. I can't wait to meet the baby."

Samantha Gilbert, on the other hand, was completely different. She was an attractive, athletic-looking woman with stylishly cut honey-brown hair. She wore a pair of expensively tailored trousers and a pale silk shirt. Silver gleamed discreetly in her ears. A designer scarf in a subdued mauve print framed her long neck.

There was an invisible aura of authority and importance about her. When she walked into a room, you knew it. Elena could see the anger and resentment in Samantha's eyes. She was superficially polite, but there was no welcome for the new member of the family.

 _She hates me,_ Elena thought in shock. _I don't even know her and already she hates me._

"Since everyone is here," Isobel said quickly, casting an anxious glance at her husband. "Let's go inside the family room. The butler was just about to pour drinks."

Everyone seemed grateful for the small social ritual of the pre-dinner cocktail hour. Isobel and Melissa gamely tried to keep the conversation going while the butlers handed out the drinks.

"How long you going to be here, Elena?" Samantha asked.

Christopher turned around at that. "What business is it of yours how long she intends to stay here?"

Samantha glowered. "Just trying to make polite conversation."

"Sure," Melissa said. "That's you, all right. Polite."

Samantha glared at her brother and sister-in-law.

Damon cleared his throat. "As a matter of fact, Elena is going to be here for quite a while."

Samantha's attention snapped back to Damon. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Elena will be the new head of the Ridge's PR department," Damon answered.

When Samantha looked startled, he added, "Once Elena has settled down and familiarised with the resort, she will step up as the CEO and president of the Ridge. This is term of Grayson's will."

Everyone was staring at Damon. Samantha was watching Elena with a distinctly suspicious glare. Melissa seemed politely interested. Christopher was looking quizzical. John appeared startled by Damon's words. Elena didn't know what to say. It was Isobel who responded first.

"So you are the one," she said.

Elena looked confused. "I beg your pardon?"

Isobel shrugged. "The one Grayson was going to groom to take over the Gilbert Ridge. Well, makes sense, when you think about it. You are Grayson's only child."

"The board of directors made John vice president a few months ago," Samantha informed Isobel. "Your husband is Grayson's right-hand man."

"But John has never intended to take over the Gilbert Ridge," Isobel explained.

"Grayson had worked in the business his whole life," Damon said. "It is reasonable for his kid to take over and manage it."

"I agree," John spoke for the first time.

"I have been helping Grayson for several years." Samantha put in with a militant gleam in her eye. "The projects I had put together since I joined are considerably larger and more profitable." She turned to Elena. "How do we know whether Elena has a flair for corporate management?"

Damon narrowed his eyes. "What makes you say that, Samantha?"

"I understand Elena has worked in a PR firm," Samantha said easily. "But it doesn't mean she has any experience in corporate management. It is quite obvious it would be a mistake for her to have stayed in that role."

Samantha was right, Elena thought. But she didn't need this discouragement at this moment.

"I'm willing to give it a try," Elena said.

Samantha snorted. "You are used to writing news releases, working with the press, arranging interviews for company spokespeople and organising marketing activities like brand awareness and event management. You would be bored and restless playing corporate officer in a high-rise office building, sweetheart."

"I trust Elena. She has a natural talent for leadership," Damon said with a reflective look at Elena. "As a PR officer, she always had a knack for being able to put together a team and get every member working toward a common goal. This is what you need for a CEO and president of a company."

Samantha's gaze went to Elena. "You seem to have found a one-man cheerleading squad, Elena."

Elena flushed at the sarcasm, but Damon merely smiled enigmatically. "I trust Grayson. Like father like daughter, I'm sure Elena will do a good job."

There was an appalled silence as everyone in the room appeared to take the remark personally.

"Quite a little treasure," Samantha muttered with a narrow glance at Elena.

Even her brother was somewhat embarrassed by Samantha's comment. He cleared his throat, as though trying to find a new topic of conversation.

Damon ignored Christopher's efforts. Instead, he raised his glass in a small, intimate salute to Elena. "I believe Elena will do her best because I know she won't disappoint Grayson or anyone in the family."

Elena's embarrassed flush turned to a glowing warmth. She stared at Damon, who was silhouetted against a flaming sunset His gaze was dark and deep and brilliant. In that moment it was quite easy to believe he meant what he had said.

Elena managed to avoid Samantha until after dinner when she found herself alone with her for a few minutes shortly before everyone left. It had been a mistake to come out alone onto the veranda for a breath of the fresh air. That much was obvious the moment Elena heard the other woman behind her. She didn't turn around. She had a hunch what was coming.

"Well, well, well," Samantha said coldly. "Getting a little tired from playing the role of the long lost daughter for the Gilbert family?"

Elena leaned on the railing and gazed at the sky. "This family could use some peace," she said quietly.

"This family was doing just fine until you entered the picture. How in the world did you seduce Damon into siding you? You don't look like his type."

Elena spun around, incensed. "I did not seduce him. That is a horrible thing to say."

"You don't fool me for one minute, Elena," Samantha's voice was a tight, angry hiss. "I know exactly why you are here. You would never have returned if you hadn't found out what Grayson had…" She broke off hastily.

"Found out what?" But Elena was fairly certain she already knew.

"You have found out just how much money and power this family has and you figure you deserve a slice of it because Grayson was your biological father. Your father didn't want your mother years ago. What makes you think he wanted you now? Now you are desperately trying to find a way to fix that little problem, aren't you? It must be terrible standing on the outside in the cold, looking in on all this money. But you are smart. So you are going to use your charm to get your hands into our money."

"Samantha, you have got this all wrong."

"The hell I have. But I will tell you one thing, Elena, you'd better live up to your name and exercise a little caution. Because I see right through you. I know what you are up to and I'm not going to let you do it. I won't let you find a way to get in charge of the Ridge. I have been running things along with Grayson these past few years. I'm brilliant at it. The Ridge is richer now than it has ever been. I deserve to go on running the resort. I won't let you wreck everything I have built up during the past few years!"

Stunned, Elena stared after her distraught family as Samantha hurried back into the living room.


	11. Chapter 11

For the next couple of days, Elena's new life was racing straight ahead and she was forced to run just to keep up. There was a lot of work still to be done to prepare for the opening of the gala and she was working at a disadvantage, since she was coming in at the tail end. She had to catch up with Christopher's plans, and with the marketing scheme he had devised and already had in motion.

Working with Christopher was more fun than she had expected it to be. She knew about PR. How to market a product so that a customer would be not only slavering to have it, but instantly convinced to buy it. Working the ins and outs of a gala as big and splashy as the Gilbert Ridge affair was, at its heart, no different. There were posters to see to, artistic signs, menus for some of the out-of-town vendors and professionally shot photos, showing impossibly perfect people at play.

Gilbert Ridge was about to become the centre of the food and wine industry for several weeks and Elena was right in the thick of it.

She couldn't remember being happier.

Her office on the ground floor of the Ridge was bigger than her old one in Richmond and bright with sunlight pouring in through a bank of windows. There were fresh flowers in the room, and a top-of-the-line computer and printer. She had all the assistance she needed from the employees at the business centre and she had Christopher to bounce ideas off of and to argue with occasionally, as well.

What she didn't have, she thought now, was Damon.

He had made himself scarce the last couple of days. She had barely caught a glimpse of him. Elena stood up from behind her desk and looked out her window at the English-style garden beyond the glass. She had missed Damon.

Her office door opened behind her and she whirled to face of the man she had missed so much. "Damon," she said. "Hi."

"Elena." His voice was cool, polite.

She nearly caught a chill from across the room and she couldn't stop herself from frowning. Why did he act so distant as if she was a stranger?

"Can I help you?" Her words were as polite as his.

"I have come to introduce you to—"

"Me," another man said as he walked into the office and looked at her. "I'm Mason Lockwood, Samantha's fiancé. I'm also one of the board directors of the Ridge."

"It is nice to meet you," she said, maintaining the professional manner she had begun with. Elena saw no warm welcome in his eyes, so she wasn't going to act as though they were friends greeting each other.

Mason studied her and could see what Samantha had already mentioned to him. Elena did have the look of the Gilberts about her, so there was clearly no mistake made. He could see it in the defiant tilt of her chin. In the flash of her eyes. Hell, she probably had more of Grayson in her than the others Gilbert did.

But that didn't mean that he would welcome her into the Ridge or the family. Or that she deserved a share of the estate. Being blood didn't mean jack if you didn't earn your place, he told himself. Everyone else might be willing to give her a chance, but he wasn't so easily taken in. She would have to prove herself to him.

Not that he had anything against her personally. And judging from what Christopher and John had had to say on the subject, he would probably like her. Eventually. But for right now, she was the intruder.

"Getting along all right, I see," he said, giving her office a quick scan.

"Everyone has been very helpful," Elena told him, then came around her desk and took a few steps closer. "Look, I know how hard this is for all of us. And I'm not expecting us to be one big happy family anytime soon."

He folded his arms across his chest and nodded.

"I do, however, expect you to give me a fair chance," she said.

"You do."

Elena looked directly at him and refused to be cowed by his steely stare. She had already been warned that Mason would be the hardest nut to crack, so to speak. That this one of the board of directors would be the least welcoming because of his relationship with Samantha. So she would stand her ground and if she needed to show him that she meant to make this place her home, then that was what she had do.

Besides, Damon was standing right there, watching her, and she wasn't about to look weak or pitiful in front of him.

"That is right. Just as you would any new employee," Elena said. "I think that is fair."

Mason thought about it for a long moment before he nodded and walked forward, offering his hand. "It is fair. Okay, a chance it is."

"Thanks." Elena shook his hand and stepped back.

"Now, I have got to go find John and talk to him about some business. If you two will excuse me…"

Mason left, shutting the door behind him and suddenly Elena and Damon were alone. Silence dragged out for what seemed like forever. Finally, though, Damon said, "You handled him well."

She forced a smile. "Thanks."

"Mason has been with the company for several years. His father was a good friend of your grandfather. He and Samantha put together some major deals in their time. They are still making money on all of them."

"I see," Elena said.

She had an insight into the probable cause of Samantha's overt hostility. It was quite possible Samantha was afraid that, both Mason and she would lose their power at the Ridge when Elena reclaimed her lost heritage.

"Are you okay?" Damon asked.

Elena sighed. "If my…Grayson was still here running the Ridge, none of us would be in this mess."

Damon hesitated. When it came to business, he relied on his innate sense of timing. But with this woman he was wary of trusting his instincts. They were giving him dumb instructions. For example, right now he wanted to sink his fingers into her hair to see if her hair actually felt smooth like silk. Logic told him it would be an extremely bad move. But everything that was male in him was urging him forward to disaster.

There was too much going on beneath the surface of his own reactions. Stuff he did not yet understand. A potential firestorm. An accident waiting to happen.

For a heartbeat, instinct warred with common sense. Instinct won. Which only went to prove that modern man was not nearly as evolutionarily advanced as he liked to think, Damon decided.

Still, some small portion of his brain was working well enough to search for safe camouflage.

"I have got a meeting in ten minutes. I'm sure you have a busy schedule today, too. I better leave you to your work."

With that he turned and walked towards the door. She hesitated, trying to resist the impulse that had just struck her. She failed.

"Damon, wait a second."

He turned back to look at her. "Yes?"

"Why don't we have dinner tonight?"

He blinked a couple of times, as if she had just suggested that they take the next shuttle to the moon.

"Huh?"

Not the most flattering of responses, Elena admitted. But for some reason it gave her hope. Maybe he was as unsure and cautious about what was going on between them as she was. Maybe he wanted to tread warily.

Then again, maybe he was totally unaware of the silent thunder and invisible lightning that she saw snapping in the air between them.

At least it was not an outright rejection, Elena told herself. She had sensed that she had better move quickly.

She smiled at him. "It crossed my mind that I owe you something for the considerable amount of inconvenience I caused you since I came here." She paused for a second. "I was thinking that maybe I could repay you with dinner this evening."

That was the last thing he had been expecting.

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to," she insisted. "How about dinner at my place?"

"Your place?"

"I'm going to work a little late tonight," she said very quickly. "I didn't really want to go out. Since you have been so kind to me, I will cook salmon for two."

"I can bring takeout with me tonight if you are busy."

"Forget the takeout," she said. "I will cook. See you at seven?"

"Okay," he said. "I will see you at seven."

He left her office and closed the door quietly but very firmly.

Dinner with Elena Sommers.

For an instant, he couldn't figure out how to climb back out of the hole he had just dug for himself.

She was just being nice, he reminded himself. She was being grateful for what he had done for her. That was it.

Just like a business dinner.

Okay, he could handle that. He knew how to do a business dinner with a woman. On a good night, he could even do a social dinner with a woman, although he did not do a great many of those these days.

Damon gave himself a small, mental shake. _Snap out of it. We are talking a simple dinner here, not a date as we know it._


	12. Chapter 12

At ten minutes after six, Elena set the sack of groceries and the six-pack of beer on the ancient wooden table that occupied the centre of the kitchen. She had left her office at five-thirty and drove to the nearest supermarket using one of the rental cars from the resort.

She put the baby bok choy, the fresh salmon, the white wine and a few other items, including a wedge of excellent cheese from a local artisanal cheese maker, into the refrigerator. It was lucky that she had spotted two specialty shops stocked with a dazzling array of exotically named cheeses, many made in the surrounding area.

She placed the loaf of crusty French bread on the counter and then turned to contemplate the six-pack. The brown bottles wore designer labels, but there was no getting around the fact that the stuff inside was beer. What had she been thinking? She didn't drink beer. She didn't know if Damon drank it, but she had a feeling he would prefer beer to white wine. Most men drank beer, didn't they? Or possibly whiskey.

Maybe she should have bought a bottle of whiskey instead of beer.

A gut-deep sense of pleasurable anticipation rippled through her. There was a centred quality to Damon that was so strong it formed an invisible aura around him. This was a man who did nothing on impulse. A man in control.

What worried her the most, she admitted silently, was that she found him both compelling and fascinating.

Meeting Damon at her PR firm had left her unsettled and unaccountably restless. She had told herself she would get over it. But when he met her at the airport later she had realized that, on some level, she had been waiting for him. She could not explain her anticipation but he had been distant to her in some extend. Maybe he hadn't felt a thing for her.

Still, she had allowed herself a few interesting daydreams.

He had been gracious enough to help her and guide her as she grew more and more accustomed to her new life. The least she could do was give him a glass of wine and feed him. That did not constitute a date. A real date was having coffee or drinks in a cosy bar that adjoined the dining room of an expensive restaurant.

She glanced at her watch and decided to take a quick shower before she started working on the salmon. Fifteen minutes later she left the bathroom and tiptoed to her closet. She pulled on a red T-shirt and her oldest, most faded pair of jeans. Then she slipped her feet into a pair of sandals. _Maybe if I don't look like I'm going out on a date, maybe Damon will feel more comfortable_ , she thought hopefully. She brushed her hair and piled it on top of her head, securing it with combs.

She took another look in the mirror just before she left the room. Satisfied with her appearance, she squared her shoulders, opened the bedroom door, and stepped out into the hall.

Time to work on the dinner.

x x x

At five minutes before seven, briefcase in one hand, Damon came to a halt on the entrance to the Manor.

It was getting worse, he thought. This gut-deep awareness had hit him hard when he had first experienced it at Elena's office in Richmond. He had told himself it would fade quickly. Just a passing sexual attraction.

But ever since that day he had been unable to think about anything else.

It was completely crazy, as it did, after nearly five years of practicing what his brother annoyingly described as commitment-free, serial monogamy. Okay, so he'd had a few discreet affairs. If anything that should have made him all the more immune.

The truth was, he had been stunned and bemused by his own reaction to Elena. And every minute he was with her was a session in torture.

He had never wanted anyone with the fierce desperation he did her. Thoughts of her plagued him constantly. He couldn't lose himself in his work anymore. Couldn't stroll through the resort without seeing her, hearing her—or hearing someone else talk about her.

She had charmed the staff and had settled into her new position as if she had been born to it. And in a way, he supposed, she had. She was a Gilbert, after all.

He replayed the conversation he had conducted with Alaric a short time before.

"What the hell do you mean, you have got a date?" Alaric demanded. "I have been trying to get you to go out with a woman—any woman—ever since you landed on my department years ago. You kept saying you weren't in the mood. I figured you were depressed or something."

"Or something," Damon said. He did not pause in the act of filing the documents into the cabinet.

"And now, out of the blue, you announce you have finally got a date?"

"Breathe, Alaric. It is not a date."

"Elena has asked you to have dinner at her place. It is a date."

Damon turned and looked at him. "I help her and she is going to repay me by cooking dinner. That's all."

Alaric pondered that briefly and then smiled his slow smile. "Certainly struck me as a date."

Damon glared at him. "I'm telling you it is not a date."

Alaric grinned. "It is quick work on your part, buddy. She just got into town for a few days. How did you manage a date so damn fast?"

Damon gritted his teeth. "This is not a date."

"But you still get tangled up with Elena tonight."

 _You are an idiot, Damon. It is probably not a good idea to get tangled up with Elena Sommers. She is Grayson's daughter._

He had conducted the argument silently in his own head for the past few hours.

 _All that stuff about not being able to have a relationship with her because people would think you are doing it to secure your future at the Ridge was garbage, wasn't it?_

 _Yes._

 _An excuse._

 _True._

 _What's the real issue here?_

 _I'm scared._

 _Why?_

 _The problem is I don't know whether she feels a thing for me. She said she owed me something for the considerable amount of inconvenience she has caused since she came here. The last thing I want is her gratitude._

The door opened after he rang the bell once. Elena stood in the entrance. She was clad in a pair of faded jeans and an oversized T-shirt.

Clearly the prospect of having dinner with him had not inspired her to put on something silky and sexy. _Well, what did you expect?_ Damon thought. _She told you she was going to repay what you did by cooking you dinner. This is not a date._

"Come in," she said. "I bought some beer."

Elena looked remarkably cheerful, he thought. No, not cheerful, more like filled with keen anticipation. He could see it in her eyes.

"Have a seat." She waved him to the sofa. "I will get the beer."

She went around the corner into the kitchen. He set his briefcase down on the striped rug beside the sofa. He took off his jacket, slung it over the sofa, and tugged at the knot of his tie.

"I hope you like beer." She smiled at him as she handed him the bottle. "There is a liquor cabinet in the kitchen. If you prefer wine or something stronger…"

Damon took a sip of the beer. "Beer is fine."

"I hope you like salmon, too. How does pan-seared salmon sound?" she asked.

"Very good," he said. "Terrific."

She smiled. "Dinner will be ready shortly."

She walked through the wide opening that divided the living room and the front hall and crossed into the kitchen. Damon followed her.

"Can I do something?" he asked.

"You can set the table. Dishes are in that glass-fronted cabinet. Silverware is in the drawer next to the refrigerator."

She opened the refrigerator and took out the salmon that she had marinated in olive oil, lime juice and soy sauce. "Did you have a busy afternoon?"

Damon tore off a chunk of the bread and took a bite. "Speaking of work, I wanted to know if you approved the design for the gala's setup on the main lawn."

"Yes, I did. I sent the papers over to Christopher this morning."

"Fine. I will check with him again. He couldn't find them earlier, but that's not saying anything. He probably misfiled them."

She smiled. "That does sound like Christopher."

"You like him," Damon said.

"It is impossible not to," Elena told him. "He has got this flair for living that I really admire. He is who he is and makes no excuses for it. He simply lives and enjoys every minute of it."

Damon folded a paper napkin with origami-style precision. "I'm glad the two of you get along so well."

Elena set the strainer filled with washed baby bok choy on the counter next to the stove. "Christopher is easy going as you said. John is reasonable but I guess Isobel plays a part in making my life easier."

"Isobel likes you. She thinks highly of you."

"I like her, too."

"Blood is thicker than water. Family always stick together," Damon said. "That's what my father always says."

Elena went quiet.

"Are you okay?" Damon asked after a while.

She went back to the frying pan. "Yeah, I'm just thinking."

"About Samantha?"

She picked up the bottle of olive oil. "I don't think she likes me."

"She will come around."

She looked at him. "You think so?"

Damon picked up his beer and propped one shoulder against the refrigerator. "Samantha always had her eye on the prize since she was a kid. And the big prize in the Gilbert estate is the Gilbert Ridge."

"She thinks I'm back here because of the money." She leaned back against the counter and sighed. "I'm not."

"I know."

"There is a considerable amount of money at stake," she said. "I can understand where she is coming from."

"You have settled into your new position as if you have been born to do it," Damon said. "You have proved to everyone at the Ridge that you are capable. You are not here because of the money. You are here because you are a Gilbert. And the Ridge needs you."

She took a deep breath. "That's very…very insightful of you."

"You learn a few things about human nature when you track bad guys for a living."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"And I know you, Elena." He met her eyes. "You are here because this family means a lot to you."

She was silent for a beat. Then she suddenly smelled the bok choy and salmon. Seizing a hot pad, she whirled around and yanked the pan off the heat. For a moment she stood there, staring at the contents of the skillet.

"You are right," she said. "Family ties are precious. No family is perfect…we argue, we fight. We even stop talking to each other at times, but in the end, family is family…the love will always be there."

x x x

Dinner had gone smoothly. They had talked easily, for the entire world as comfortable as two people who had meal together countless times.

It was almost as if they had already become lovers, he thought. A deep sense of intimacy enveloped them and it was starting to worry him. This was a far different sensation than he had known with other women in the past. It was not the pleasant, superficial sexual awareness he had experienced on previous, similar occasions. He did not understand the prowling tension that was starting to leave claw marks on his insides. It was making him very uneasy.

He stood at the sink in her gleaming, white-tiled kitchen and washed the pan that had been used to steam the baby bok choy Nearby, Elena, a striped towel draped over her left shoulder, went up on her tiptoes to stack dishes in a cupboard. When she raised her arms overhead, her breasts moved beneath the thin fabric of her T-shirt.

Damn. He was staring. Annoyed, he concentrated on rinsing the pan.

Time to go, Damon thought. The edgy intimacy that had been thickening the atmosphere all evening was getting to him. He could no longer ignore the vibes.

If he hung around any longer he might embarrass himself by making a pass at Elena.

She closed the cupboard door and reached for the coffeepot. "Coffee? Cream or sugar?"

He glanced at his watch. "It is late. I'd better be on my way."

"Oh."

He didn't have to sound quite so eager to get out of here, she thought. But it was probably for the best. Her mission of repaying him with a home-cooked meal was accomplished.

She put the coffeepot back to where it was and led the way into the living room. He dried his hands, slung the damp towel over a rack, and followed her.

She was not sure when or how it had happened but she was suddenly, intensely aware of the heavy blanket of sensual awareness that enveloped her. It had settled around her slowly and lightly over the course of the evening, the warm, thick folds practically weightless until now.

She wondered if Damon felt anything at all. If he did, he was doing a terrific job of concealing it.

She handed him his jacket and opened the door for him. Obviously she was the only one who could feel the energy of the storm gathering here inside this room.

The smartest thing she could do tonight was ask him to leave right now and go straight to her own bed.

"Drive carefully," she said.

"I will do that."

She'd had enough. She knew now what was wrong with this picture.

"Damon?"

He turned slowly back to her.

"You can't run hot and then cold on me, Damon. I refuse to play that game," she said.

He froze. "What?"

Her hands fisted at her sides. "Don't pretend you have no idea what I'm talking about. You know it." She realized she was well and truly pissed. She had wanted to figure out what was going on between them. Damon was deliberately being difficult about it for some reason. "What are you playing at? You know I feel something for you."

He did not say a word for a moment.

Elena's mouth tightened. "You have nothing to say?"

"You didn't mean what you were saying." Did she? Damon wasn't sure.

"I meant every word." Elena told him. "You just didn't pay any attention."

He exhaled slowly. "Elena…"

"Don't Elena me." She was irritated now. "If you want to deny what is between us, then it is fine with me. I'm done playing, Damon. No more games. No more teasing."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He sounded angry—his voice was low and taut. Well, good, she thought. Why should she be the only one furious here?

"When it is real, you can't walk away." She crossed the short distance that separated them and came to a halt directly in front of him. "Wish to hell I could put you and what's between us out of my mind, but it won't go."

He listened to the certainty in her voice and almost smiled. "Is that right?" It wasn't exactly a declaration of love, he decided. But it would do. For now.

"I'm serious, Damon." She frowned at him. "Why are you behaving like this?"

"Maybe I have had enough of trying so hard to walk away from whatever it is that's between us."

Heat arced through her at his words. The rush of intense sensation startled her. Her lips parted but no words emerged.

Just as well because he did not want to talk.

His mouth closed over hers and she was suddenly deeply intensely stunningly aroused.

Electricity danced across nerve endings that had already been set on edge by the effects of too much adrenaline and tension. She wasn't just aroused, she thought, she was ravenous. The hunger was unlike anything she had ever experienced— fierce, exciting and utterly compelling.

Damon muttered something urgent against her mouth and wrapped one hand around the back of her head, anchoring her where he wanted her for the kiss. His other hand flattened against the curve of her waist, locking her lower body snugly against his own. She could feel the shape of him through his trousers—hard, intense and demanding.

His mouth moved heavily on hers, urging her lips apart. In spite of her excitement, she resisted. The headlong rush into sexual intimacy had caught her off guard. This wasn't her usual slow, boring, cautious routine, she thought.

But Damon used his tongue the way a skilful fencer uses a foil—swift, teasing, provocative strokes that caused her to dig her nails into the back of his shoulders.

Instead of making her nervous, she found herself wanting to engage and parry.

Very delicately feeling enormously adventurous, she nibbled on his lower lip. In response, his finger lid beneath the bottom edge of her T-shirt. His hands were warm and strong on her bare skin.

She was channelling lightning now. She wound her arms around Damon and hung on for dear life. Energy and heat crackled through her all the way to her toes.

Damon's breathing roughened. When she stood on tiptoe and took the lobe of his ear between her teeth, she felt a heavy shudder go through him.

Maybe she wasn't quite as inhibited as she thought.

Damon raised his head, breaking off the torrid embrace with what seemed to be an extraordinary effort of will.

"I'd better get out of here while I can still walk," he said. "If I wait any longer, I won't be going anywhere for the rest of the night."

It dawned on her that he was the one who was calling a halt. How embarrassing.

Another couple of minutes and she would have tripped him and hauled him down onto the floor.

She cleared her throat, aware of the fiery warmth in her face. "We did get a little carried away, didn't we?"

"You need sleep." He smiled slowly. "Doubt if I will be able to sleep. But I will make such a sacrifice any night."

She grinned. "That's one thing I like about you, Damon. You have got such good control of everything."

"I'm not the only one," he said. "Am I?'

"Nope. I have got good control, too."

He stepped outside, stopped and turned. "By the way, you are wrong about me. I'm not playing games, Elena. I wouldn't do that to either one of us."

Damon was still smiling to himself when he got inside his car. For some reason, he was in a surprisingly good mood. There was a new, unfamiliar sense of anticipation humming inside him, a feeling of possibilities.

Or maybe it had just been so long since he had gotten laid that he had forgotten what the prospect could do for his mood.

What was between them couldn't be denied and neither one of them could wish it away.

The thing about Elena Sommers, he thought, was that you never had to worry about illusions or false reflections in a mirror. She was for real.

And it made him felt very good.


	13. Chapter 13

The next day Elena was swamped with work trying to prepare for the opening of the gala. But she had enjoyed it.

She was smiling when she woke up in the morning. Damon had kissed her good night, she reminded herself. And it had been a serious, state-of-the-art, top-of-the-line, full-on kiss. In spite of events, she hadn't felt this good in the morning for longer than she cared to contemplate. And it had been only a kiss. Her brain reeled at the thought of how she would have been feeling today if he had actually made love to her.

She rubbed her hands briskly up and down her arms, gave herself a mental shake, and turned her attention back to the report in front of her. She had more important things to do than view mental reruns of the sexy look in Damon's eyes when he kissed her last night.

The knock on her office door brought Elena's head up in surprise. Christopher had a meeting with the caterer and he wouldn't be back until mid-morning.

 _Who would that be?_ She wondered.

"Come in," she said formally.

She was startled to see Samantha Gilbert walk into the office. She strode in with confidence and there was no warmth in her eyes as she came to stand in front of Elena's desk.

"Hello," Samantha said evenly. "I have come to talk business with you, Miss Elena Sommers."

The sarcasm in her voice made Elena wince.

"What kind of business?" Elena asked warily. "Why don't you sit down?"

"I think," Samantha said deliberately, "that we should go someplace private."

"Why, Samantha?"

"Because I want to find out how much this is going to cost me, and I hate to discuss money in public, don't you?"

Elena held her breath. "How much what is going to cost you?"

"Buying you off, naturally. What did you think I meant? Mason and I are prepared to make it worth your while to leave Mystic Falls immediately."

Elena exhaled slowly. "I think I should warn you, that if you make me an offer, you will only make a fool of yourself. It would be better for future family relations if you just decided to turn this little session into an impromptu visit."

Samantha's chin came up aggressively. "You think you have done very well for yourself, don't you? You have come a long way from Richmond, haven't you? Good manners and enough money for good clothes can really camouflage a lot, can't they?"

Elena was jolted by the unexpected nature of the attack. "What did you do, Samantha? Hire a private detective to check out my background?"

Samantha tried to look casual about the matter, but there was a dark red flush on her cheeks. "It didn't take him long. Just a couple of days to verify that you were born to some cheap little woman who tried very hard to seduce Grayson when she found out he was rich. She thought he would marry her by getting pregnant. How silly was she! Your father had chosen his inheritance, not your mother or you."

Elena came out of the chair, shaking with a rage that was unlike anything she had ever known before. "Shut up, Samantha! Do you hear me? Just shut up before I lose what's left of my temper. And leave my mother out of this. You can insult me all you like, but if you open your mouth about her one more time, I won't be responsible for my actions. The only reason I'm keeping my hands off you right now is because I see you as my family."

Samantha flinched, but she didn't back away from the firelight that had erupted. "You must have thought you have landed on easy street when you found out Grayson was your father. You realise how big the prize is and you want your hand in it. Am I right?"

"Samantha, I'm warning you, don't say anything more. You don't know what you are doing."

"Oh, yes, I do."

"Why are you here?"

"Because I don't want to see the others dragged through an emotional wringer because of a mercenary little bitch who thinks she can intrude the family and destroy us."

"I don't think you give a damn about the family," Elena said bluntly. "The only thing you care about is your position in the resort."

"I have worked long and hard at building the resort into something more than even Grayson imagined it could be," Samantha snapped. "I won't stand aside and see everything I have done go down the drain. The Gilbert Ridge is my future. You are not going to steal it."

"I'm not going to steal it," she said firmly. "This is my home. All of you are my family. I won't betray my family."

"But you will unless you have a better offer."

"Which you are prepared to make, I suppose?" Elena demanded sarcastically.

"Yes," Samantha challenged her with painfully bright eyes.

"How can you possibly offer me enough to make me walk away from all the Gilbert family money?" Elena taunted furiously.

"I'm prepared to offer you a large lump sum to leave Mystic Falls. It won't be anything close to what you think you might be able to drain out of the Gilbert estate over the next few years, but it is a great deal of money. And it is guaranteed money. You could easily wind up with nothing if you try to play games with the Gilberts."

"This is ridiculous," John said.

The deadly voice was like a cannon shot in the room. Elena turned quickly to see John standing in the doorway. His rigid jaw and frigid eyes were clues to his extreme displeasure. Damon was right behind John and he didn't look please as well.

Samantha forced a smile. "Hey guys, what's going on?"

John glared at Samantha. "What is going on here, Samantha?"

Samantha shot Elena a wary look and said, "Nothing. Just talking. What are you two up to?"

"Tell me what this was about," John said bluntly. "Why are you here, Samantha?"

Elena answered before Samantha could respond. "She came here to have a chat. Casual chatting."

"Yes. I came here to chat." Samantha flashed a brilliant smile. "Don't look so suspicious, John. I just wanted to get to know Elena better, that's all."

"Sure. And if I buy that one, you have got a nice bridge you can sell me, right? Come off it, Samantha. Tell me what happened."

Samantha shrugged. "Nothing. Elena and I were just chatting."

Elena glanced at her watch. "Sorry guys, I have an important call to make. Can we talk later?" She looked at Samantha. "Samantha, you have something important to do, haven't you?"

"Oh, yes," Samantha said. "I'd better get going. I will see you later."

"I will go with you," John said as he followed Samantha out of the office.

Once they were inside the elevator, John turned to face Samantha. "For God's sake, Samantha, lighten up with Elena, will you? She is not the enemy."

"She is the enemy," Samantha snapped. "She is an intruder."

"She is Grayson's daughter."

"She is only interested in the money," she hissed. "I don't like her."

"What were you trying to do just now?" John demanded. "You offer her money to leave Mystic Falls? What are you thinking?"

"She wants money," Samantha said. "If she has a good offer, she will leave."

John shook her head. "You can't buy her off, Samantha. She won't go."

Samantha stared at him with widening eyes. "What do you mean – she won't go? If we pay her enough…"

"She is Grayson's daughter," John said. "She is a Gilbert. You can't buy her off."

Elena sighed as she sank into her chair. "That went well."

"Tell me what happened," Damon said as he sat down across from her.

She folded her arms on the table and smiled enigmatically. "Samantha achieved her purpose, that's all."

He raised his brows. "In what way?"

"She got to know me a little better."

Damon eyed her with a hooded gaze. He said nothing for a moment while his agile brain turned over the various possibilities. "She tried to buy you off, didn't she?"

Elena blinked in astonishment at his accurate guess. Her reaction gave away the truth. "Now, Damon…"

He slouched back in the chair, his mouth twisting wryly. "What a little idiot."

"Me or Samantha?"

"Samantha. She should have known it would be a wasted trip."

Elena was warmed by the implicit faith Damon was showing in her. "She didn't know me very well. She knows me better now."

"Told her to go to hell, huh?"

"I told her she had made a mistake."

Damon grinned. "A big one. You are right, she didn't know you. You won't walk out on your family because of money."

"You sound very sure."

"I am," he said, tossing his car keys into the air, "because I know you." He caught the keys and smiled at her. "Come on, let's get out of here."

x x x

The farther they got from the Ridge, the more relaxed Elena felt. It occurred to her that she had not realized how much stress and tension had been locked up in her muscles since she arrived in town.

Night was falling fast. She could feel the weight of the heavy clouds moving in under the dark, heavy sky that promised rain sometime before dawn. She was intimately aware of Damon's presence next to her in the front compartment of the vehicle.

"Where are we going?" she asked after a while.

"Dunham Lake."

She looked at him. "Dunham Lake?"

"The Gilbert family has a few properties at Dunham Lake, mainly restaurants and motels," he explained. "Dunham Lake is a popular spot for tourists during summer."

The road that wound around the long, convoluted border of the lake was a two-lane strip of pavement that twisted and curved in a whimsical fashion. Damon drove it with efficiency and precision but he too is time. She got the impression that he was in no rush to reach their destination.

Elena watched the evening shadows move out of the trees and swallow up the rest of the landscape.

"You want to show me the properties of the Gilbert family." She glanced at her watch. "It is almost six-thirty."

He chuckled softly. "No, I'm taking you out for drinks and dinner."

He chose a restaurant that he had discovered by accident shortly after moving back to Mystic Falls. Sal Rose Cafe was a tad ritzier than most of the other eateries in the vicinity. He hoped Elena would find the fake Italian palazzo atmosphere cosy maybe even intimate. Like every other establishment in the area, the place was only lightly crowded at this time of year. He had no trouble convincing the waitress to produce a table near the windows.

Elena sat down and looked around curiously. "This is nice."

"This is new," Damon said. "It wasn't here when I lived in Mystic Falls."

She opened his menu. "Contrary to popular opinion, some things do change."

He smiled. "The world changes every day. Look at Mystic Falls; it is scary how the town has changed."

"But I'm not sure whether big changes are considered good," she mumbled.

"We came over here to get away from Mystic Falls for a while. What do you say we talk about something else?"

"Good idea." She gave the menu her full attention. "I think I will have the sautéed shrimp and the avocado salad."

"I'm going for the spaghetti. Same salad."

"I want some wine too," she said.

"Check out the Rain Creek selections. They are pretty good."

"I know that label. I especially like the sauvignon blanc."

They gave their orders to the waiter. When the young man left a heavy silence enveloped the table.

Elena seemed absorbed in her glass of wine and the view of the night-darkened lake.

Something was wrong with the picture, he thought. Dinner went smoothly the night before. They had talked easily. But that was before they kissed. So why had things changed after they kissed?

Damon wondered if he had made a serious mistake when he suggested that they change the topic of conversation. Maybe she found him hopelessly dull and boring if they weren't discussing the problem in Mystic Falls. He wondered what she talked about when she was with other men. When she was on a date.

"Looks like rain," he said, digging deep for inspiration.

"Mmm, yes."

 _Dig deeper, pal. You are losing her here._

He reached into the bread basket and selected a breadstick.

Inspiration finally struck.

"I have got a big favour to ask," he said.

"What's the favour?"

"I have to put in an appearance at my father's birthday celebration this weekend," he said. "I could use a sidekick."

She gave him a blank look. "Sidekick?"

"Date," he corrected quickly.

"You need a date to go to a birthday party?"

"Trust me, this Saturday is his sixty-five birthday. We always have a small family get-together. Stefan will be back from New York. I'm expected to be there. I want you to come with me."

"Sounds like fun," she said. "I would love to go with you."

He suddenly felt remarkably more cheerful. "Thanks. We will drive to the quarry which is about two hours from Mystic Falls on Saturday morning. The party will run late, so we might as well spend the night at the Quarry Inn and return to Mystic Falls the following morning."

"Just one thing," she said.

"What?"

"Why will I be doing you a big favour?"

He turned the wineglass a little between his fingers, deciding how much to tell her.

"My family has been worried about me for the past few years."

She frowned. "Worried about you?"

"They think I have a problem after I broke up with my ex-girlfriend."

"Okay."

" I think that if I show up with you, it will reassure everyone."

"Ah," she said. "Got it. You think that if you arrive at the party with a date, your family will think you are moving past the ex-girlfriend thing and getting back to normal."

He took a swallow of the wine and slowly lowered the glass. "Unfortunately, it is a bit more complicated than that."

"How much more complicated can it get?"

"Like I said, when I got out of the FBI, everyone was very anxious for me because they believed the breakup really hit me hard."

"Did it?"

He looked at her. "In hindsight, I can only say that I wasn't a perfect boyfriend and my relationship was doomed to end anyway."

"Why do you say that?"

"Something was missing."

"Such as?"

He moved a hand. "Romance. Passion. Sex."

"Sex was missing from your relationship?"

"A few friendly kisses and hugs and that was about it. So, being a trained, strategic thinker, I decide that the problem was my busy job. Figured we needed some time to ourselves. Long walks on the beach. Dinners by candlelight. You know the routine."

She looked thoughtful. "Actually, I don't think of romance as a routine, exactly."

He ignored the interruption, determined to finish what he had started. "I asked my girlfriend to go away with me for a long weekend at a secluded inn in Miami."

"Something went wrong?"

"The FBI had an emergency operation that weekend and I didn't go to Miami."

"Oh."

"I got shot in the chest that day."

She winced. "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh is right," he said evenly. "My father once told me that I have to stop fooling around with my job for a while and pay attention to what is important."

"And what is important?"

He didn't answer the question.

Damon brought the Camaro to a halt in front of the main entrance of the Manor, switched off the engine and got out. He didn't want the night to end so fast. He would give a hell of a lot to take her to bed, but it was probably too soon. He didn't want to scare her off.

Elena watched him walk around the front of the vehicle to open her door. Scary anticipation and an unfamiliar excitement fizzed through her. Would he kiss her again tonight?

This was ridiculous. She was acting like a teenager on her first big date. Except that she had never felt like this on any date in her life, she reminded herself.

The door opened. Before she could negotiate her way out of the front seat, Damon's hands settled around her waist, snug, secure and powerful. He lifted her out and set her lightly on the ground as though she were weightless.

He walked her towards the front door, not saying a word. The suspense was threatening to steal her breath. He took her key and opened the front door. She knew at once he was going to turn around and leave immediately. For the first time that evening Elena reached out to touch him.

"Damon?"

"What is it, Elena?"

"I…Don't you want to come inside?"

"It is late. I will see you tomorrow." He leaned down to brush his mouth against hers. The kiss was fleeting and rigidly restrained.

Elena made a small sound, a combination of protest and longing that was almost lost in the soft sounds of the night. If Damon heard it, he gave no sign. He lifted his head almost at once, as if the touch of her lips burned him.

"Breakfast," he said.

Elena blinked. "What?"

"If you are into breakfast, can I interest you in my very special French toast tomorrow morning?"

His smile was so slow and so wickedly inviting that she was amazed she did not dissolve into a puddle right there in front of her door.

A whole bunch of butterflies took flight in her stomach. Was this his way of announcing that he wanted to take their relationship to the next level? If so, she would have to make a decision. Right now. Oh, Lord, she wasn't ready or this. It was too soon.

"Yes," she heard herself say before she could rationalize her way out of it. "Breakfast sounds good."

Damon nodded, looking satisfied, leaned forward again and kissed her lightly on the mouth.

He raised his head almost immediately. "My place. Zero seven-thirty. That's plain old seven-thirty a.m. to you."

She laughed. "Somehow I think I would have figured that out."

And then he was walking away towards his car. She stood in the doorway, nonplussed and more than a little chagrined. So much for her making the big decision, she thought.

He paused at his car. "Lock your door."

"Okay," she said sweetly. "See you tomorrow morning."

He grinned. "See you tomorrow."

She closed the door and locked it. Eye to the peephole, she watched Damon climb into his Camaro and the vehicle's lights came up, slicing into the darkness. The heavy engine rumbled to life. The Camaro moved slowly, ponderously, out of the drive, heading towards his house.

Damn. He really was going to leave.

"Son of a—" She broke off, wryly amused by her chaotic reaction to Damon's abrupt departure. She was torn between wanting to scream and wanting to laugh. It was far too soon to go to bed with a man she barely knew. And she refused to be the kind of woman who threw herself at a man. She was aware that in spite of extreme sexual frustration, she was feeling good—better than she had felt in ages.

She laughed, suddenly feeling more light-hearted than she had in a long while. She was awash in a delicious sense of anticipation. Better to focus on tomorrow morning, instead, she decided.


	14. Chapter 14

The main spa room at the Ridge was so opulent it was nearly decadent. Which made it perfect. A curve of aquamarine water followed the circumference of the room. Jets built into the walls of the pool produced frothy bubbles of pure relaxation and the only sounds were from the jets and the rhythmic splash of the overhead waterfalls spraying heated water down into the waiting pool.

Elena felt loose and limber and almost guilty for taking the entire afternoon to do nothing but be pampered. Still, since it had been Isobel's idea to have a quiet afternoon of family bonding, Elena thought she could let the guilt go just this once. Besides, after the busy hours she'd had for the past few days, it felt good to just relax.

"You are seriously making us all look bad," Isobel told her with a sigh. "I mean, really, you don't have to be Gilbert Family Member of the Year right off the bat."

Elena smiled and hid the hurt that seemed to be a constant companion. Yes, she was making great strides at her new job. Her families were coming around—she had even managed to talk to Samantha without her glaring at her. And she'd had dozens of compliments on her plans for the splashy welcome she had designed for the opening of the gala from the board of directors.

For the first time in her life, Elena felt as though she was being accepted and appreciated by her families for who and what she was. For what she could contribute. And it felt great.

Memories of having breakfast with Damon at his house this morning floated through her mind. She couldn't stop thinking about him. Breakfast this morning would be date number three for them. On date number one she cooked him a meal at her place and they kissed. On date number two he brought her to a nice cosy restaurant for drinks and dinner. And they kissed again. Given their track record, that should constitute a relationship, shouldn't it?

And he wanted her to meet his family. It meant something, didn't it? Damon had mentioned staying at an inn. Was he thinking one room or two? Should she shop for a new nightgown tomorrow along with a new dress?

"Okay, what is wrong?"

"Hmm? What?" Elena jolted as she realized her thoughts had wandered off while Isobel was talking to her. "Nothing. I'm just thinking about work."

"Uh-huh." Isobel shook her head and reached out to pat Elena's shoulder.

The two of them had indulged in a luxury spa treatment. They had already been through the facials, the massages and now, they were stretched out side by side in the narrow curve of the pool, relaxing. Or they were supposed to be.

"I know that look," Isobel said. "You look smitten. And it is not a 'work' look. It is a 'man' look. So spill."

She automatically shook her head. One thing you learned as an adult was that it was not necessary to tell your parents every little detail of your life. And there was simply no way she wanted her aunt to know about her relationship with Damon at this stage. "I really don't think—"

Isobel gave her a dramatic pout. "What's the point of having family if you can't bare your soul and get free advice—or sarcasm, as the situation demands."

In spite of everything, Elena smiled. It did feel good to have Isobel as her aunt. Even two weeks ago, she never would have believed that she still had family around in this world apart from Jenna. Yet here they were, and astonishingly enough, the two of them had actually formed a bond that Elena hoped would only get stronger with time.

"Okay," she said, and glanced around to make sure they were still alone.

"Relax. The place is ours for the afternoon. I run the spa, remember?"

"Right." Elena lifted one arm and slid it through the water, letting the jetted bubbles pulse against her skin. "Okay, say there was a man I'm seeing socially at the moment."

"A man." Isobel leaned back and floated, allowing more of the jets to beat against her body. "You mean Damon."

Elena felt heat rising in her cheek. "I…..How…"

Isobel smiled. "I saw you walked over to his house early this morning. And you two came back to the Ridge together."

Elena tensed a little, as though preparing herself for battle. "His place isn't far from the Manor. I…I just wanted to talk to him."

Isobel grinned. "There is something going on between the two of you. You look smitten when Damon is around."

"I don't look smitten!" she protested.

"You like Damon."

"Well, I do like him," Elena admitted. She knew there was no point denying it.

"A lot?"

She knew she was blushing. "I like him enough to go out with him."

"But you want him," Isobel teased. "You are nuts over him."

Elena was struck dumb. She could not think of an appropriate response. She couldn't think of any response.

"Elena?" Isobel snapped her fingers. "Hello? Anybody home in there? Stay with me here, Elena."

"Am I that obvious?" Face burning, she asked.

"Obvious?"

"Nuts over him."

Isobel laughed. "You ought to see the way you look at him, Elena. Damn near painful."

"Right."

"He looks at you the same way."

"Really?"

Isobel gave her a commiserating look. "You told me about your ex. The jerk who cheated on you."

"A total jerk."

"Right." Isobel nodded. "Think of it as an experiment that didn't go well."

"It was a mistake, not an experiment."

"Uh-uh." Isobel wagged her forefinger. "You know what they say, it is only mistake you don't learn from it."

"I learned a lot from it," Elena said. "I don't trust men easily."

"But you trust Damon."

Elena nodded. "Yes."

"I can tell you that you have already taken a quantum leap forward."

"Meaning?"

"You and Damon are dating. How cool is that?"

"Well, there are more to come."

"Oh." Isobel smiled a smug little smile. "Is he taking you to somewhere special?"

Elena moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, swallowed a few times to clear her throat and drew a deep breath. "He wants me to meet his family this weekend."

Isobel's eyes lit with speculative interest. "This is serious, isn't it?"

Elena shrugged. "I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think his family will like me?"

Straightening up, Isobel shook her wet hair back from her face and looked at Elena. "Who gives a damn what they think? Damon likes you."

"But I got the feeling that it is very important to him, Isobel," Elena said as she shifted in the water, letting the heated water push into her back. "What if his family doesn't like me?"

"Of course they will like you," Isobel reassured her. "You will survive, Elena."

"I hope so."

"Nervous, honey?" Isobel was laughing at her. "Afraid you will chicken out after you have met his family?"

"Well, no, it is just that I…"

"Don't worry," Isobel said softly, climbing out of the water and reaching for a fluffy white towel. "They will like you. Be in the moment. Enjoy your time with Damon, okay?"

"Okay."

"But right now, we have got things to do."

Elena rose. "What?"

"We are going shopping."

"You want to shop?"

"Not me. You need to shop," Isobel said. "For something to wear this weekend. You have got a big weekend coming up."

x x x

Elena sat in the passenger seat and watched the rural scenery flow past. The drive from Mystic Falls to the quarry was only about forty miles, but the road was a two-lane highway that wound through a rolling landscape. A few miles back, the picturesque vineyards had given way to small farms. Goats and dairy cattle wandered across grassy fields. Signs advertising homemade cheese and antiques appeared at the side of the road.

Elena could not escape a sense of anticipation. They were on their way to a birthday party, but in her imagination the drive to the coast loomed as a turning point of sorts in her relationship with Damon.

It felt good to be out here sharing the warmth of the day with Damon, she thought. Her spirits rose. For the first time since she had arrived in Mystic Falls, she began to relax.

"It is a relief to get away from Mystic Falls for a while," she said. "I'm tired of being the main attraction at the resort. This whole week all anyone wanted to talk about was me becoming the head of the PR department."

"Can't blame everyone for being curious." Damon slowed for a right-hand turn. "But I agree with you. Today is a nice day to get away from the town. Trust me, the quarry late is beautiful."

"Does your family always have a small get-together at the quarry?" she asked.

"My parents have a small cabin at the quarry," he said. "But we will be staying at the inn tonight. The cabin can't fit all of us."

"You are sure your family is expecting me?"

"I called the house this morning and talked to my mother," Damon said. "She can't wait to meet you."

He drove for another short distance before they arrived at the quarry. He parked the car, and they made their way to the quarry lake.

He pointed at the cabins around the area. "This quarry used to be a very popular mining place in the 1900s. But mining stopped in mid 1950s. This place started to become a favourite weekend get-together in the past ten years when builders started to build cabins and lodges around this area."

"This is a nice place." She smiled. "I like it here."

The snapping breeze whipped Elena's hair and sent a rush of pure, unadulterated delight through her. It was good to be here, alone, with Damon.

She glanced at him, smiling to herself at the sight of his tousled hair. He looked delicious in his black windbreaker, jeans and sunglasses. She was no longer a teenager, but the hormones she thought had matured and perhaps gone a little stale in the past few years were playing havoc with her senses and emotions.

 _Stop staring, woman. You have got him all to yourself for a while. Be in the moment._

And she realised, suddenly that she wanted the moment to go on indefinitely.

 _Get a grip, woman. You will scare him off if you are so desperate._

She refocused her attention on the rough beach and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her own windbreaker to restrain herself from doing something rash like, say, grab Damon and kiss him senseless.

"What are you thinking?" Damon asked.

Caught off guard, she groped for words and finally came up with the question that had been on her mind since they left Sal Rose Café the other night.

"Your father told you to stop fooling around with your job for a while and pay attention to what is important."

Nervously she came to a halt and turned to stare at him. He stopped, too, and looked at her. They were both wearing sunglasses, so she could not read his eyes.

"What is important?" she asked.

He was silent for a couple of heartbeats. She had the impression that he was gathering himself for a big jump.

"I don't want to go back to Mystic Falls today," he said finally. "I want to spend the night with you, here, where no one knows us and we can be alone together."

She caught her breath. Hope soared within her. Grimly she tamped it down, forcing herself to keep things in perspective. "And tonight is important to you?"

"Yes."

She took a deep breath.

Be in the moment.

"Yes," she said. "I would like very much to spend the night with you."

He took her hand, closing his fingers tightly around hers. They continued walking along the path that led to the cabins.


	15. Chapter 15

"About time you got here, young man," Giuseppe called cheerfully. "Your mother was starting to worry."

"I doubt it." Damon chuckled. "She is busy in the kitchen, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is." Giuseppe smiled warmly at Elena. "This must be Miss Sommers."

"It is. Elena, this is my father."

"How do you do, Mr Salvatore?" Elena smiled as she examined Giuseppe with interest.

Damon had told her that his father was celebrating his sixty-five birthday, but there was an air of vigour about him that would have done credit to a much younger man. He was almost as tall as Damon. His eyes, which were green instead of blue-grey like Damon's were sharp and alert.

"Glad you could join us. Allow me to introduce you to my family." He nodded towards a lovely woman dressed in a floral dress.

"This is Valarie, Stefan's wife."

"How do you do, Miss Sommers?" Valarie said with a big smile on her face. "I'm glad you could join us."

"Nice to meet you, Valarie," Elena said. "And please, call me Elena."

Blond, blue-eyed and dainty, Valarie was one of those delicate, ethereal-looking women who made men want to strap on shining armour and go out to slay a few dragons. But within five seconds of meeting her, Elena had decided that she liked her, anyway.

Damon indicated the handsome man standing next to Valarie. "This my brother, Stefan."

Elena nodded politely. "Hello, Stefan."

Stefan grinned. "Elena, so glad you could come with Damon."

"Beer, coke or water, Elena?" Damon went to the table and picked up a bottle.

"Water, please," Elena answered before turning to smile brightly at Giuseppe. "This is for you, Mr Salvatore."

Giuseppe laughed. "It is very nice of you, Elena. You weren't expected to bring a gift."

Elena handed Giuseppe the wrapped package. "You are supposed to bring gifts when you attend birthday parties. It is traditional. I didn't have much time to make a selection, I'm afraid. I hope you like it."

"What have we got here?" Giuseppe asked.

"Damon said you are into golf. I hope you will like this 10-piece leather golf travel set."

"I love it, Elena." Giuseppe smiled. "Nice of you to bring this. But I can't believe another year has slipped past. I'm an old man."

"Don't pay any attention to my father," Damon said to Elena. "He says that every year."

"You aren't growing older. You are just getting more distinguished."

Elena turned and smiled at a woman gliding towards them. Damon's mother, she thought.

Lillian Salvatore was a stylish woman with an assured, self-confident manner. There was no doubt that Damon took after his mother in terms of looks and physical appearance, as there was a very strong physical resemblance between the two of them.

"I'm getting old." Giuseppe dropped a light, affectionate kiss on Lillian's cheek. "But at least I get to spend these damn birthday parties with the most beautiful woman in the world."

Lillian smiled at him. She loved him, Elena thought. And he loved her. She couldn't stop wondering whether Grayson and her mother had looked at each other that way.

And she certainly hoped she and Damon would look at each other that way.

"The big cake event will commence after lunch." Stefan grinned. "You have got some candles to blow out, Dad."

Giuseppe groaned. "I hate the candle part."

Damon chuckled. "Tradition must be honoured. Don't worry, I made sure that there will be a fire extinguisher nearby."

Everyone laughed.

"Lunch is ready." Lillian drew Giuseppe forward. "Better get moving folks."

Two hours later Damon, Stefan and Giuseppe were outside of the cabin drinking beers.

"Your mother likes your Elena," Giuseppe said. "So do I."

Damon smiled. "I like her, too." _A lot,_ he said to himself.

"Elena is an interesting woman," Stefan said as he took a sip of his beer. "She seems intelligent. Quick. Rather striking."

Damon smiled again. "Yes, she is."

Giuseppe looked at Damon. "She is Grayson's illegitimate daughter, isn't she?"

Damon swallowed some beer. "Yes."

Giuseppe sighed. "That must be very difficult for her. How is she coping?"

"I think she is dealing with it." Damon smiled slightly. "She is strong."

"How are things going over there at the Ridge?" Giuseppe hesitated and then probed further. "Is she getting along okay with the Gilberts?"

Damon's brows bunched together. "What have you heard?"

"The news is out there that Samantha has tried to buy her off," Giuseppe said. "With a lot of money."

"Bummer."

"You know that people in small towns talk," Giuseppe said.

"Yes," Damon said. "I do. It is called gossip."

Stefan patted his brother's shoulder. "You know as well as I do that you can't control gossip here in Mystic Falls."

"Samantha doesn't know Elena. Elena won't walk out on her family because of money," Damon said.

"Believe me, I understand," Giuseppe said. "Samantha will come around eventually."

"I hope so," Damon said grimly. "But Elena doesn't have to be the focus of all these. She has enough to deal with already."

Giuseppe snorted. "We, the Founding Families are used to folks around here talking about us. Hell, most of the Founding Families have been inspiring conversation here in Mystic Falls all by ourselves for decades. Got a real talent for it. Sometimes I think the good Lord put us on this earth just to keep this town entertained."

"Dad is right," Stefan said. "People will talk. You can't stop them."

Damon drank his beer. "I know. I thought this was a town where everyone minded his or her own business," he said dryly.

Stefan's smile was cool. "I have got news for you, brother. This is a small town, and all small towns, even places like Mystic Falls, share a few common traits."

Damon looked at his brother. "I know all about small towns. I grew up in one."

Giuseppe's eyes gleamed with shrewd comprehension. "Okay, you care about Elena. You really want this woman, don't you?"

"Yes, damn it."

Giuseppe laughed. "So go get her. And don't let her go."

x x x

She was going to spend the night with Damon. Tonight would be a very important night, possibly the most important night of her life.

Elena was exhilarated, thrilled, and walking an invisible high wire without a net. Hot anticipation stirred her blood. Damon had said tonight was important.

Getting through the rest of the afternoon and evening without making a fool of herself was not easy. She had desperately tried to draw her eyes away from Damon throughout the afternoon and evening, and failed miserably. She had to keep reminding herself to stop drooling over him.

Still, her eyes stayed riveted on him, unable to pull her gaze away from the most breathtaking man on the planet. Elena tried to be subtle by engaging in conversations with Valarie and Lillian while she stared, but she was fairly certain her lust was pretty obvious. He was overwhelmingly beautiful, heart-stopping—in a very male, unconsciously seductive kind of way. It wasn't just his gorgeous face and ripped body that made women stare; it was the entire package. Every action, every word that came out of his mouth exuded confidence, a bold masculinity that no woman could seem to resist.

She was braced for Damon to try to hurry her through dinner, but much to her amazement, he did no such thing. No rush. No pressure. But she had seen the masculine anticipation in his eyes all afternoon and evening, and sensed the heat of a low-burning fire inside him. Every time his eyes met hers she was aware that he wanted her. The thought made her smile.

When they finished Lillian's homemade sorbet and cheesecake, he looked at her and asked, "Ready to go?"

Thrill and excitement settled into her. She wanted this night; she wanted it with all her heart.

"Yes," she said.

After they said good night to his family, they got in the car and Damon drove a short distance to the Quarry Inn. He parked the car at the entrance. Elena followed Damon through the lobby to the doorway of the inn room. He opened the door, switched on the lights and waited for her to move past him into the room. The room looked good. The large bathroom sparkled with polished tiles and glass. The towels were soft and thick. The bed was artistically made.

"This is lovely," she said.

Damon looked pleased. "You like it?"

"Yes."

"Elena?" His voice was husky with unmistakable desire.

"Yes?"

"I'm not going to regret what will happen tonight." He held out his hand. "I sure as hell want you. And I know you want me."

Elena contemplated his strong fingers for a moment. She knew that she had wanted this to happen all along. Slowly, mesmerized by the knowledge that he wanted her, she lifted her hand and put it in his.

He wrapped his fingers tightly around hers. Without a word, he tugged her towards him. She went straight into his embrace and he brought his mouth down on hers with a driving hunger that swamped her senses.

Heat and sparkling energy crackled through her. He made the kiss last a long time, not rushing her.

A slow hunger built inside her, tightening her lower body. She could kiss him like this for weeks or months at a time, she thought, relaxing into the embrace. The sleek, muscled contours of his back felt wonderful beneath her hands.

"I was a fool to deny what is between us," Damon whispered against her lips. "I knew it would be like this between us."

"Yes." She had known it, too. She clung to him now as the urgency within her rose to new levels. She was shaken by the force of the desire she felt. The sheer power of the sensations pouring through her was new to her.

He tore his mouth from hers long enough to undress her. She struggled with the buttons of his shirt, inhaling his scent as she worked. He smelled good, indescribably sexy and thrillingly male. A strange, light-headed euphoria infused her senses.

"Having difficulty with my shirt?" he asked.

"Shut up."

She went back to work on his shirt.

His laugh was rough and sexy. "You can't wait, can you?"

She fought through the last of the buttons on his shirt. "No."

"Neither can I." He shrugged out of it and then yanked off the black T-shirt. With a soft sigh of delight, she flattened her palms on his bare chest. He sucked in his breath. She felt the hard, contoured muscles beneath his warm skin grow even more taut.

He scooped her up against his chest. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him. He carried her the short distance to the bed and put her into the bed.

He paused just long enough to get out of his jeans and briefs and remove a small foil packet from the pocket of his pants. He tore off the top of the packet with his teeth. And then he was coming down on top of her, one leg anchoring her thigh so that she was open to his touch.

When he took her nipple between his teeth she heard a soft, breathless sigh of pleasure. It took her a moment to realize that she was the one who had made the sound.

She reached down and enclosed him with her fingers, exploring the length and breadth of him. The fierceness of his erection excited her. She felt him grow even tighter and bigger at her touch.

His hand moved up the inside of her thigh. She did not know whether to urge him to hurry before she lost this glorious pulsing sensation, or if she wanted him to slow down so that it had time to intensify. Decisions, decisions. She was entering uncharted territory.

One long finger slid slowly, deeply into her, stroking, prodding and stretching.

Another finger followed. She could feel the slick dampness gathering between her legs. Jolted, her body clenched tightly around his invading fingers.

"Damon?"

"Mmm?" He nuzzled her belly.

"Now," she urged, digging her nails into his shoulders. "Please, yes, now."

"There's no rush."

"Yes, there is." She tried to shake him, but it was like trying to move a large boulder.

"You don't understand."

"You're still tight. I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me." She clutched him harder and moved her hips against his hand.

"Let's see if we can make you a little wetter first."

He started to move farther down her body, pausing here and there to drop kisses onto her sensitive skin.

He reached the inside of her thigh.

"No, wait," she gasped. "Come back here."

She heard his low, wicked laugh again, and then felt his warm breath and his tongue on her. It was all she could do to keep herself from screaming.

It was too much. He was taking control, demanding a kind of surrender that she had never been able to give any man. It was unthinkable.

A moment later the climax rolled through her, as deep and unstoppable as an earthquake.

She was vaguely aware of Damon shifting his weight, sliding heavily between her legs. He pushed himself deliberately into her, stretching her, filling her completely.

She was stunned to feel herself coming again. Damon rode the new tremors with her, pounding hard and fast into her body. His back was slick with perspiration, every muscle rigid.

The bedsprings groaned loudly, rhythmically in protest. The headboard slammed again and again against the wall. Her emotions were in utter, mystifying chaos. She wanted to laugh and was amazed when she felt tears in her eyes. The only thing that mattered was the man in her arms.

It seemed impossible, but Damon's hoarse shout of exultant, triumphant release gave her as much pure, unadulterated pleasure and satisfaction as her own climax.

Together, they raced toward a completion that had been waiting for them for weeks and together, they crashed over the edge and fell.

A long time later Elena stirred amid the rumpled sheets. The lovemaking had left her feeling boneless, utterly content and curiously calm deep inside. In the glow of the night-light she could see Damon sprawled on his stomach beside her. His face was turned away on the pillow. The white sheet draped carelessly across his lower body.

He looked exotic and mysterious and very male lying there beside her, an exciting creature of the night who had materialized out of her most intimate fantasies.

She stroked the sleek contours of his back, enjoying the heat and strength he exuded.

"Are you awake?" she whispered.

"I am now." He rolled onto his back and folded his arms behind his head. "What is the matter? Can't sleep?"

"There is something I want to tell you," she said. "Tonight was special for me."

He touched her cheek. "Me, too."

"I mean, very different."

"Yeah, how so?"

"It is just that I never dreamed it would be like this."

"Like what?"

"Like finding the other half of myself."

He smiled, wrapped one hand around the back of her head and brought her mouth closer to his.

"Elena, you know how to drive me crazy," he said.

"I like making you go crazy. I like it very, very much," she said.

He kissed her. She went with him once again into the night.


	16. Chapter 16

Elena let out an audible yawn as she walked to the resort gym. Her stomach rumbled for her breakfast. She had worked late last night. The two double bacon cheeseburgers and chili cheese fries she had consumed last night had worn off, and she was starving.

Workout first.

In a pair of black yoga pants and a grey T-shirt, her hair confined in a ponytail at the back of her head, she was ready to get her workout done quickly. She slugged down the last of her coffee that she had made in the Manor and dropped the cup into a trashcan outside the gym. It was early morning, and she expected the gym to be deserted like it had been most mornings.

She was wrong.

The door was propped open, and Elena peeked into the large gym, surprised to see a young couple on the large, padded mat in the middle of the room. The brownish-haired man was tall and slender, sporting a white judo gi with a black belt cinched around his waist. The female, dressed similarly to Elena, she recognized as Samantha.

Elena moved closer to the door as she heard the sound of distress in Samantha's voice. "Jason, you are hurting me."

The man had a hold on the smaller woman's wrist as he said arrogantly, "You said you wanted to share some of my interests, Samantha. Martial arts require some pain and discipline."

Elena rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth as she watched him deliberately twist the woman's wrist in the guise of showing her some moves. The bastard apparently enjoyed his sadistic twist to teaching—something that was obviously apparent to Elena that he wasn't even qualified to do. He tossed Samantha to the ground with more force than necessary without giving her a reason, or actually teaching her anything.

The bastard just enjoyed hurting her. He was not teaching Samantha a damn thing except pain. The asshole must have a mail-order black belt.

Samantha yelped. "We have to stop. I hurt my back. I don't understand how to do this."

Understandable, considering the asshole teaching her wasn't really instructing. He was punishing.

"Get up, Samantha. You will hurt more than once before you understand," the man said impatiently. He practically yanked Samantha's arm out of the socket as he forced her to stand. "You said you wanted to lose some of that fat off your body before you get married. I'm your trainer. You have to listen to my instruction."

Elena flinched. Oh, God. This guy was a major jerk.

"I do want to lose some weight," Samantha answered dejectedly, a hand to her sore back.

Elena watched in horror as the tall man tossed Samantha again, harder this time.

"Ouch!" Samantha's outcry was one of real pain. "Jason, I can't do this."

As Jason reached for the smaller woman's arm again, Elena exploded into action. The guy was a damn sadist. Samantha wasn't fat, and this man was a pain-loving bully.

Elena hastened to the mat and gently helped Samantha up. "You can watch," she whispered to the honey-brown-haired woman as she steered her away from the mat and off to the side. "Teaching shouldn't be painful," she said in a louder voice. "And you should learn something every time you are bested. A good instructor will start with the basics, and it shouldn't be horribly uncomfortable." She wanted Jason to hear her last statements, and she let her disdain for the teaching techniques of the man on the mat leak into her voice.

"Who in the hell are you?" His voice was angry and arrogant.

"I'm her family who doesn't like your teaching strategies," Elena retorted fiercely as she turned to face him.

"Jason, we should go. I didn't think anyone would be down this early. We can practise again when nobody is around," Samantha said adamantly from the sidelines.

"You are just afraid of being thrown again," Jason mocked Samantha.

 _Hell yeah, she is afraid,_ Elena thought. _You are making her that way…asshole._

"She is hurting. It is not appropriate for you to continue," Elena told him sharply. She could also tell him he was a lousy damn teacher and a cruel jerk, but she kept her tongue. Instead, she suggested, "Why don't you show her how it is done? Examples might help." Elena gave him a saccharine sweet smile.

"I would happily show her with you," Jason answered with a vicious smirk.

It was exactly what she was hoping for, and Elena took up her stance. "Show me." She wiggled her fingers for him to come and get her.

He came at her roughly and grasped her arm so tightly that she winced. But she used her centre of gravity and her own strong grip on his arm to flip his body end over end, leaving him stunned and gasping for breath on his back on the mat.

"You bitch," he growled menacingly. He rose to his feet, his face red with fury.

"What is the matter, pussy?" she purred. "Don't like picking on somebody with some skills?" It had been a clean throw, and he had no reason to be pissed. However, he was obviously a man who didn't like to be shown up by a woman. He was the type who liked to be the victor—always.

"Jason, no!" Samantha screamed.

Elena was ready as he attacked her from the back, no longer even trying to pretend he was practicing any kind of martial arts. He was coming in to punish, and Elena already had his number. If he wasn't playing fair anymore, neither was she. As he wrapped an arm around her throat, she let her elbow fly and nailed him in the solar plexus. Just for good measure, she stomped her sneakered foot into his instep and let her fist fly backward to hammer it into his nose.

He let her go and went slowly to the floor with a horrific bellow. "You broke my goddamn nose."

Panting with fury, Elena reacted instinctively as another restraining, male arm came around her shoulders. She flipped the big body behind her over her head, but unlike Jason, this newcomer didn't release his hold. She found herself hurtling over his body. The two of them rolled over each other and grappled for supremacy. Also, unlike Jason, this man was good, and he had her subdued in seconds in a hold that wasn't meant to hurt her, but to make her submit. She raised her knee as he held her body beneath his, but he blocked her attempt.

"Sweetheart, before you try to nail a guy in the nuts, you should make sure you can get away," Damon rasped in her ear, his muscular body on top of hers. "Settle down. I wasn't trying to hurt you. I was trying to keep you from trying to kill the novice over there." Damon jerked his head towards Jason.

Her heart still hammering with adrenaline, Elena nodded. Her eyes locked with Damon's. "What are you doing here?" she panted heavily, her breath sawing in and out of her lungs frantically.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elena saw Samantha help Jason up and take him out of the gym. Her trainer glared at Elena as Samantha led him away.

"I came to look for you but you weren't at the Manor," he answered. His blue-grey eyes swirled with emotion, his body tense. "I didn't think I was going to walk into a brawl this early in the morning. What the hell happened?"

"Can you let me go?" she requested breathlessly.

"Depends. Are you going to try to kick my ass again?" His eyes lit with devilish humour. "I didn't know you know judo. You are good, baby. You even know how to fight dirty. But I'm better."

"Of course you are better, you had been a FBI," she said. "You are obviously well trained in more than just judo."

Damon grinned at her.

She yanked her wrists free of his body and pushed against his chest. "You are heavy. Let me go."

He winked at her. "I know."

"Then let me go," she grumbled, relieved when he finally lifted his body from hers and pulled her gently to her feet.

He was dressed simply in a pair of navy sweatpants and a T-shirt that clung to every muscular inch of his chest, arms, abs, and torso. He looked so good, Elena thought.

"So why did you decide to beat that man's ass?" Damon asked curiously.

"He was being mean to Samantha." Elena wandered over to a treadmill and started it at a warm-up speed.

Damon took the treadmill next to hers and hopped on, starting at a walk right beside her. "What do you mean by saying he was being mean?"

Elena grabbed the bar in front of her as she walked in place and stared at the painted forest scenes on the wall. "He was inferring she was fat, which she isn't, and he was tossing her to the ground without teaching her anything. She said her back hurt, and he was twisting her wrist for no reason except to make things painful for her. But he wanted to keep on tossing her around, even after she admitted that she was hurting. He is a jackass. Why in the world does she want to pay this kind of trainer?"

He was silent for a few minutes, as though he contemplated her words. "I will talk to John and Christopher about this. Thanks for helping her out."

She nodded, and there was a comfortable silence for a few moments while they both ramped up their speeds on the treadmills.

"You said you came to look for me. What's up?" Elena asked curiously.

He shot her a grin. "I was planning to ask you to join me in the gym and then we could have breakfast together."

She had to admit he was sweet. "Okay. Work out first and then breakfast."

 _Damn, for a woman, Elena Sommers can eat,_ Damon thought.

He sat across from her at one of the small dining tables in the buffet room and watched her consume her third waffle. She had already devoured a pile of eggs, sausage, bacon, and toast. Eating those items first hadn't even slowed her down. Finally, she chewed at a more even pace, but she hadn't stopped yet.

He didn't think there was anything sexier than a woman who wasn't afraid to enjoy her food. At first, he wondered whether she could out eat him, but he had managed to consume an even larger breakfast before he stopped. Elena ate slower and savoured her food. Now he was just enjoying watching her. Nearly groaning as she licked maple syrup from her bottom lip and closed her eyes in ecstasy, he sat his fork on his empty plate and stared openly.

Elena was an enigma and he hadn't yet found anything about her that he didn't admire or adore about her. Even the way she ate made him like her even more. No picking at her food or a salad for this woman. She ate with enjoyment, consumed her meal as if she didn't know when she would eat again. And the fact that she could kick some major ass—pretty damn hot.

"I enjoy watching you eat. You like your food," he commented neutrally as she finished the last bite of her waffle.

She eyed him carefully. "I do. Do you have a problem with that, Mr Salvatore?"

"Nope. I like it. I can't stand it when women pick at their food and profess not to be hungry when they actually really are starving."

"You do?" Elena looked at him, perplexed.

Damon looked into her chocolate brown eyes and surveyed her confused expression. "I do."

"My ex used to say I ate like a pig." She placed her napkin and fork gently on her plate before she picked up her coffee mug to finish the beverage.

"I think a woman with a healthy appetite is sexy," he rasped. Watching her eat was like watching her come: a look of complete ecstasy on her face. It just made him want to be the cause of that particular expression himself. "Your ex was a douche."

"Agreed," she answered happily. "He is a total jerk."

"By the way, when did you learn judo?"

She put down her coffee mug. "Since I was seven. I was fascinated by it when I saw a judo competition on television." She laughed softly. "I begged my mother to let me join the judo club at school. I told her women should learn some basic self-defence stuff to protect ourselves. And she agreed. I only stopped training when I graduated."

"You are still pretty good at it," Damon said with smile. "I was impressed."

Before Elena could respond, Samantha arrived at the table and sat down without waiting for an invitation. "I don't think you two will mind if I sit down, right?"

"We don't mind at all," Elena said.

"Are you okay?" Damon asked Samantha.

"I'm fine." Samantha lowered her eyes. "Jason was my ex."

Damon exchanged a glance with Elena but they did not say a word.

"We dated in high school before we both had to go our separate ways for college. We still saw each other until…"

"Until you started going out with Mason three years ago," Damon said neutrally.

Samantha nodded. "Jason has been under a lot of stress recently," she explained hesitantly. "His business partner disappeared with all the money and Jason has to deal with the debt. He was very good in judo at high school and college. I know he needs money and…"

"That's why you have hired him as your trainer," Elena said.

"Yes. He has apologised," Samantha said quickly. "Jason used to be a nice guy."

"That's no excuse," Elena said firmly. "He hurt you. He is an asshole."

"Elena is right," Damon said. "Find another trainer. That guy has serious problem. He is abusive."

Samantha sighed. "Maybe you are right."

"I will talk to security to make sure he doesn't get inside the Ridge," Damon said. "He can be dangerous."

Samantha looked worried. "Please don't let Mason or Christopher know about this. Mason knows nothing about my relationship with Jason."

"Then stop seeing him, Samantha," Damon said.

"I'm definitely giving up trying to learn any martial arts with him," Samantha told him adamantly. "Just promise me you will not talk to Mason about this."

Elena reached out to touch her hand. "Damon and I won't say anything to Mason."

Samantha looked relieved. "Thank you."

"Do you want some breakfast, Samantha?" Elena asked with a polite smile.

"I have got an appointment." Samantha slipped out from behind the table. "I will leave you two to your breakfast session."

Before Samantha turned away, she looked at Elena and smiled. "Thanks for this morning."

Elena smiled back. "You are welcome. I'm more than happy to kick his ass again if he tries to hurt you again."

Samantha grinned and walked briskly out of the restaurant.

Damon looked at Elena. "Kick his ass again?"

Elena chuckled. "Don't you know that I'm very protective of my family?"

"Huh," Damon said. He looked intrigued.

Elena picked up her coffee and saw that Damon was watching her. "What?"

"I think Samantha is starting to like you."

Elena's eyes widened. "You think so?"

"No kidding." He winked at her. "I think you should teach Samantha judo."

She looked thoughtful. "Do you think she would learn from me?"

"Why not? At least it is better to learn from Jason."

She smiled. "You are right."


	17. Chapter 17

"You are in love with Damon, aren't you?" John asked without any warning as Elena paused midway through the ballroom to make the final inspection before the gala started.

Elena was so astonished by the unexpectedly personal question that she almost stumbled over. Then she wondered why she was hesitating to admit the truth aloud.

She was intensely curious as to how he would try to navigate around some of the obstacles to their fledgling relationship. He loved her and she loved him, which was all that truly mattered, but there were some little complications. She counted them off in her mind:

 _She had a condo in Richmond and had a job there._

 _He lived in Mystic Falls and his family and friends are here._

 _She could come back here to take over the Ridge but she couldn't leave Jenna in Richmond, could she?_

Obvious, this was going to a difficult decision to make.

"Yes," she said calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I am."

There was silence for a moment after the interchange between Elena and John. They viewed the ballroom quietly together until John spoke again.

"You are doing a good job, Elena."

Elena smiled slightly. "Thank you."

"You did Grayson proud." John gave her a shrewd glance. "You have done alright for yourself. I mean, not only what you did for the gala. In general, you have done alright. And the most important thing is you are happy."

She smiled again. "I really am. I know it is strange. I can hardly believe it myself, to tell you the truth. But it is so gorgeous here, John. I don't just mean the resort, but Mystic Falls itself. It is so beautiful it is almost hard to look at it."

"Will you consider living here permanently?"

She looked thoughtful. "I really love it here. The staff has treated me kindly. Isobel and Melissa are wonderful. Working with you and Christopher has been amazing…"

"But…" John encouraged her to talk just by patiently waiting.

Smiling, she acknowledged. "I know how important the Ridge is to Samantha. She has worked really hard all these years. She deserves what she has worked for."

"But Grayson wanted you to take over the Ridge."

"I want Samantha to be happy."

"What's the alternative?" he asked briskly. "Are you going to run away? Pretend you aren't Grayson's daughter?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Well, I do." John stood in front of her. "You are a Gilbert, Elena. And we don't run. We don't put our heads in the sand when things don't go our way, either. You face the problem with your chin lifted high. Samantha will come around eventually. Trust me."

Throwing her arms around his neck, she hugged him tightly and sighed when John's arms came around her with a fierce embrace.

"I love you, John," she whispered and his embrace tightened in response.

"I love you, too, my little niece," he whispered. "Guess you need to freshen up?"

She pulled back and smiled up at him. "I really should. The gala will be opened in the next few hours."

"I will get ready as well." He winked at her. "You are an amazing woman, Elena. Make sure Damon knows how lucky he is."

Elena grinned. "Don't worry, I plan to remind him frequently."

John laughed aloud at that, the robust sound carrying easily through the open space of the ballroom. Damon, who had been standing at the entrance watching Elena and John, found himself smiling in response. He wondered what the joke was.

It had been a long time since he had heard John's laugh.

Trust Elena to find a way to uncover it.

Damon's gaze went hungrily over the figure of his woman. She was wearing jeans and a silk blouse but she still looked sexy as hell.

He had made love to her slowly and deliberately the previous night, drawing out the process until she was shivering and clinging to him. He had held off the final culmination, waiting expectantly for the words of love he had been anticipating since the night at the Quarry Inn. But Elena hadn't spoken them.

Damon couldn't understand why she didn't admit what he could read so easily in her eyes. He knew she was in love with him. Although she was excitingly generous with her passion in bed, she had never yet whispered her love to him during their most intimate moments together.

He had wanted so badly to confront her with the fact but he didn't. Something told him she would have to come to it in her own time. If ever.

Elena was as skittish around the subject of marriage as he was.

Now, what had put marriage into his head?

Damon felt the instant changes that started taking place in his own body as thoughts of the previous night's lovemaking drifted through his head. With a small, muttered oath he turned away from her.

He had a long evening ahead of him before he could climb back into bed with Elena.

x x x

The hotel ballroom for the evening was lavishly decorated for the event. The white-and-gilt walls and ceiling sparkled beneath the light of two magnificent chandeliers. The dance floor was filled with couples enjoying the music of the excellent band playing at the far end of the huge room. The opposite end of the room featured the large buffet and the fine wines were moving quite well.

"It looks like the gala is a success. Grayson would be proud." Alaric had remarked.

"He would." Damon had told him.

Damon scanned the room, looking for Elena. He finally spotted her introducing Wes Maxfield, one of the board of directors to an attractive young woman named Julia from the PR department. The social task over, Elena left Wes with his new acquaintance and moved off to join the group of men around Christopher. Damon was thinking of how compelling Elena looked in her little black lace dress when he heard Isobel's voice at his elbow.

"So you and Elena, huh?" Isobel and John moved to stand beside Damon.

Slapping him on the shoulder, John said, "I like Elena. She is our family. So just to put you on alert—if you are not actually planning to marry her—you better stop fooling around with her. None of us will stand by and let anybody hurt her."

"I'm not fooling around with her. I want to marry her."

Isobel smiled. "You are really in love with her, aren't you?"

"It must be painfully obvious. Yes."

"Good luck, man." John held out a hand towards him. "And welcome to the family."

Damon shook John's hand. "I think I'm going to ask my girlfriend to dance before someone steals her away."

John nodded understandingly. "We will catch you later."

"Go get your girl," Isobel added.

"I won't let her go," Damon promised and then he was striding through the crowded room.

Elena cast a critical eye across the dazzling scene that her staff had created. The point of food and wine was to eat as much of the best local food from Mystic Falls and sample as many fine wines as possible and then party the night away.

The heavily laden buffet tables displaying Mystic Fall's gourmet food products were covered with pure white cloths. Guests chose caviar and canapés from silver serving dishes. Silver candles stood tall in elegant silver candelabra.

This was an amazing event, Elena thought. She was proud with what the Ridge had done.

Richard Lockwood, the mayor of Mystic Falls, joined Elena. His gaze rested approvingly on the decorations of the room.

"Fabulous," he said. "And so elegant. Just right for the town image."

There was nothing like a satisfied client, Elena thought.

"Our staff here at the Ridge very much enjoyed working on this project. They felt that it allowed them to release their creative energies," Elena said.

Richard looked pleased. "I can see that. I intend to tell the Council that we will definitely use the Ridge again next year."

It would definitely be tacky to pump one fist in the air and holler _yes_ in a very loud voice, Elena decided. She restrained herself. She gave Richard a smile that held, she hoped, just the right degree of businesslike warmth.

"I'm glad that you are happy with the final result, Mr Lockwood. The Gilbert Ridge's goal is always a satisfied client."

Richard studied the array of servers lined up behind the buffet table. "The Council was worried about the event this year because of Grayson's death. But it looks like his daughter has managed to do an excellent job."

"I believe it was Christopher who has worked really hard to make this event successful," she said. "I only helped him out."

"What you two have done is impressive. You two must work together again next year…" Richard broke off to smile at someone who had come up behind Elena. "Damon, how good to see you."

"Hello, Richard. It is good to see you, too."

Elena whirled around to smile at Damon. She had to admit that he looked remarkably at ease and wonderfully sexy in the classic power suit, a tuxedo. The black jacket hugged the strong line of his shoulders.

"This is very good turnout, isn't it? Damon asked Richard.

"Yes, it is," Richard answered. "This is very impressive. The Ridge has done an excellent job."

"I'm glad you approve." Damon gave him a very pointed smile. "The staff has worked really hard for this gala."

"I can see that," Richard said.

"If you will excuse us," Damon said as his hand closed firmly around Elena's arm. "I'm going to ask Elena to go to the dance floor with me and enjoy the very expansive band we hired."

"Of course," Richard said. "In fact, if I can talk my wife Carol into it, we might join you on the floor."

Elena smiled allowed herself to be steered through the crowds at the buffet tables into the dance floor.

The band, attired in silver lame jackets similar to those the servers wore, launched into a slow, smooth, easy ballad. Damon pulled Elena straight into his arms.

"I like the dress," he said.

"I like your tuxedo," she said, smiling.

His mouth curved slightly as he took in the décor in the ballroom. "This is very impressive, Elena."

Elena grinned. "I'm so glad this has turned out so well."

"Grayson would be so proud of you."

"I hope so," she whispered.

"He would, darling."

"Hmm."

He decided it was time to bring up the subject. "What is your plan, Elena?"

She blinked. "What plan?"

"Are you going to give up your job in Richmond and move back here?"

"I need to talk to Jenna," she said cautiously.

Damon looked down at her, questions in his eyes. "You are a Gilbert. This is your home. This is your family business."

"Hmm."

His eyes narrowed. "Because of Samantha?"

"Samantha is right in terms of my ability. I'm good in PR but can I really take over Grayson's place as the president and CEO?" She shrugged. "I'm not so sure myself."

He met her eyes. "You can do it, Elena. John and Christopher trust you." _I trust you, too._

"Hmm." She stopped dancing as the music came to a halt. Her expression thoughtful. "I think I'd better check on a few things."

"Elena…" He grabbed her hand.

"I will catch you later."

She turned quickly and disappeared into the crowd.

Damon glanced around. Everything appeared to be functioning smoothly. No one looked bored or uncomfortable, and the food supply was holding out well. There was no reason for Elena to check on her staff.

He watched her slipped onto the crowded floor. He felt his gut tightened. There was a nervous quality about her movements, he reflected. He thought she had acted strange the moment he brought up the subject of her moving back here permanently.

Maybe his timing had been off. Or maybe he hadn't been quite so clever after all. He wondered if she was panicking, and if so, what he should do about it.

The truth was, he had wanted her to stay in Mystic Falls. He didn't want her to leave. Why couldn't he just tell her the truth? Why had he bothered using her family business to persuade her to stay?

 _Nice going, Damon Salvatore, you really screwed that up, didn't you?_

Elena stopped at the long bar and sighed. Deep inside her heart she knew this was where she belonged now. Oddly enough, after only five short weeks at the Gilbert Ridge, the place had become home to Elena. She wasn't the same person she had been when she arrived. She should officially quit her job in Richmond. She should go back to Richmond soon, to arrange for the sale of her condo and to have her furniture shipped here.

John was right. She was a Gilbert. She wouldn't run away when she faced a problem. She wouldn't let her father down. And she knew Miranda would support her decision to stay here with the Gilbert family.

 _Samantha can be pissed but I don't care,_ she said to herself.

So why didn't she tell Damon what was in her mind?

 _Because I'm not sure how long things can go on between us._

 _Bullshit. Things seemed to be going along quite well the way they are._

 _We could probably go on like this for a long time. But it feels…_

 _Feels what?_

 _Messy._

 _An excuse. Not the reason why you didn't tell Damon what is in your mind._

 _True._

 _What is the problem here?_

 _Because he hasn't told you he loves you._

 _Great sex does not equal to love._

 _Ask him._

"Looks like you have done a great job for the gala."

There was no mistaking Mason's muscular tone. She turned around and found Mason standing next to her. But she was not in a mood to deal with him.

She gave him a fleeting smile. "I'm glad you are approving."

Mason looked at her. "I may have some issues with you because of Samantha but I have to say you have done an excellent job here."

Elena caught her breath. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I'm sure you know by now that discovering that Grayson had a daughter came as a shock to the whole family," he said.

"I was more than a little stunned myself," Elena said.

Mason smiled at her. "Samantha and I have talked it over. She has offered you a lump sum of money to get you to leave all us alone."

"I'm not interested in money," she said. "I care about this family. They are my family."

She probably shouldn't be talking to Mason like this, Elena chided herself. But it was difficult to be polite under the circumstances.

"I'm well aware of it now," Mason said. "You are very good, Elena. That's why Grayson put you in charge. That's why both John and Christopher have trusted you. In the end, I know you will do what is best for the family."

She was surprised. "You do?"

Mason smiled. "Yes." He paused for a beat. "Samantha knows you aren't after the family's money. She knows you are doing your best to make sure the family business continues to prosper."

Joy flowed through her. "Really?"

"Yes," Mason said calmly. "The dynasty is now assured."

Elena looked at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mason shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? Samantha and I won't object to you stepping up as the president and CEO of the Ridge."

"Isn't Samantha interested in taking over the Ridge?"

"Oh, she is." Mason laughed. "If you aren't making any progress, she will make sure you won't have a job at the Ridge."

Elena smiled at him. "It is a deal."


	18. Chapter 18

"I love what you have done with the nursery," Samantha said. "Very spacious and airy." She opened the French doors of the nursery and stepped out onto the balcony. "Fabulous views, too. "

Melissa glanced around the nursery with satisfaction and then followed Samantha outside into the chilly evening.

"It wasn't cheap decorating the nursery," she said. "But I think it will be worth it. We will have baby number two and he or she can continue to use this."

Samantha wrapped one hand around the railing. "Baby number two? You are definitely planning ahead."

Melissa looked amused. "Why not? Your brother loves children. So do I."

"You both are so committed to each other. I have no doubts you two will be great parents."

"Christopher and I are meant for each other." Melissa smiled. "Our goal is to make it last and get through every bump on the road."

Samantha looked at the sky. Night was closing in rapidly. The wind was picking up, indicating heavy rain was approaching. The evening was still clear. From her perch on the balcony she could see the town centre of Mystic Falls.

It was a familiar landscape, Samantha reflected, one she had known all of her life. For generations Gilbert had been a part of this community. Their roots went deep here.

She hugged herself against the brisk night air. "You know, it is kind of ironic, when you think about it."

"What is?" Melissa asked.

"I grew up here in Mystic Falls. I have great parents and a loving brother. I have good education and a great career. But you came along and married my brother. You two are happy and are expecting your first child. Melissa, I can't think of the last time I envied anyone, but I envy you."

Melissa took a long moment to absorb and process her words.

Then she gave a low, soft, tuneless whistle.

"Oh, my," she said. "You envy me? Did I hear it right?"

"Yes, I do envy you."

"Okay, Samantha, what is going on here?"

"I'm just a bit…..." Samantha sighed. "I'm late."

"Huh?"

"I'm late this month. I know it is just the stress of what has been happening…"

Melissa's head jerked up and she pinned Samantha with a calculating stare. "How late?"

Samantha shrugged. "A week or two. It is no big deal. I have been careful."

"And you are emotional every day?" Melissa asked carefully. "Have you been sick or nauseated? Anything else out of the ordinary?"

"The smell of garlic seems to make me nauseous lately. I have had to stop eating anything with it for now." She looked at her sister-in-law, the suspicious look on Melissa's face forcing her to add, "I'm not pregnant, Melissa. You know that is not possible. I'm on the pills."

"You know the pills are not a hundred percent guarantee."

"I'm not pregnant," she told her sister-in-law again obstinately.

"We need to see if you are pregnant," Samantha said excitedly but she paused when a set of headlights turned into the drive that led towards the house "But I'm afraid we will have to wait. Here comes dinner."

"I thought Christopher has gone out with his friends. Who is bringing dinner?"

The low growl of a powerful, finely tuned engine rumbled in the gathering night. Samantha watched the SUV prowl down the drive.

The vehicle came to a halt near the house's main entrance. The engine went silent. The door on the driver's side opened.

A sudden premonition sizzled through Samantha. She gripped the railing very tightly and leaned forward to get a better look.

"No," she muttered. "Surely you wouldn't—"

Melissa grinned. "I want to have pizza tonight and Elena has kindly agreed to get me some pizza."

Before Samantha could respond, Elena climbed out. Her gaze went straight to the balcony.

"Hello Melissa." Elena waved at them. "Hi Samantha."

"This isn't an amazing coincidence," Samantha said darkly. "Am I right?"

"We are family," Melissa said quickly. "Consider this as a family bonding dinner."

"I got enough pizza for the three of us." Elena gazed up at the balcony. "I even got some tacos."

"This is going to be an interesting night," Melissa said. There was warmth and laughter in the words.

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Jesus, I eat like a pig," Melissa said after an hour. She was amazed by her own hunger. She wolfed down four slices of the ham and pineapple pizza, two tacos and a large glass of orange juice before she even realised what she was doing. "I have gained a lot of weight recently."

Samantha smiled at her. "Don't worry, you look cute plump."

"Thanks a lot," Melissa said, annoyed. "You won't think you look cute when you gain a ton in the next few months."

There was a moment of acute shock.

"Are you…are you pregnant, Samantha?" Elena asked cautiously.

"You aren't supposed to tell anyone!" Samantha scolded Melissa.

Elena turned to Samantha. "Did Mason know?"

Samantha a hand to her flat belly. No! She wasn't even going to consider the possibility. "I shouldn't have mentioned it. I know I'm not."

Melissa rose to her feet. "Samantha…no offense….sometimes the pills don't work."

Both Elena and Samantha got up.

"Where are you going?" Elena asked.

"We need to see if Samantha is pregnant. I think I still have the pregnancy kits in my medicine cabinet," Melissa said excitedly, waddling out the kitchen door without another word.

"I'm not pregnant," Samantha protested.

"We will see," Melissa said as she put a hand behind her back to rub her spine. It was obvious to Elena that she was physically uncomfortable today.

"Are you okay? You don't look good, Melissa," Elena said.

Melissa stumbled slightly. Her lovely face grew momentarily taut with pain. "My back is sore. But I'm okay."

Samantha saw the way Melissa was clutching at her lower back. "Melissa? Are you sure you are alright?"

"I told you, I'm fine," Melissa answered. "We need to find the pregnancy…" Then she gave a soft, muffled cry and grabbed at rail of the stairs. "Oh, my God," she whispered.

Elena leaped for her, catching Melissa before she fell and easing her down onto the floor. "It is the baby, isn't it?"

Samantha's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, my God!"

"I think so." Melissa gasped again, and through her eyes as she looked helplessly up at Elena. "They say the first one is always late. This can't be happening. Not here. Not now. Christopher is not here. What am I going to do?"

"It is okay. We will help you," Elena said. "Can you make it to the car?"

"Yes, I think so. I have still got some time. At least, I think I do. Oh, Lord, I didn't know it would happen like this. I wanted Christopher with me. I don't want to be all alone."

"I will call him now." Samantha reached for her phone in her bag.

"Call John as well," Elena said as she gently guided Melissa out of the house. Samantha followed behind them quickly.

"Get Christopher to the hospital. I don't want to be alone." There were tears in Melissa's eyes.

"No, you are not going to be all alone," Elena said stoutly as she eased Melissa into the back seat of her SUV. "You have got me. You have got Samantha. We are family, remember? We are here. You won't be alone."

Whatever Melissa intended to say to that was lost beneath another wave of pain. By the time she recovered, Elena already had the car out of the drive.

Melissa's contractions were coming more frequently by the time Elena reached the hospital. The Emergency Room staff wasted no time. Elena and Samantha stayed close to the bed as Melissa was whisked down the hall and into an elevator. When she offered her hands to both Elena and Samantha, both women were amazed by the desperate strength with which Melissa grabbed it.

"Aren't we supposed to be counting or something?" Elena asked gently.

Melissa groaned. Her nails dug into Elena's palm. "I'm scared," she whispered.

A labour-room nurse leaned over Melissa to undress her. "No need to be scared. It is going to be mighty uncomfortable for a while and a whole lot of hard work, but there is nothing to be afraid of. You are going to be just fine." She flashed a quick glance at Samantha and Elena. "You two are members of the family?"

Both women nodded. "Yes."

Melissa opened her eyes for a moment and essayed a weak smile. "They are my family."

"Good," said the nurse. "They can stay with you until your husband gets here."

Elena smiled down at Carrie. "If you will let go of my hand for five minutes, I will go call him again."

"I will stay with you," Samantha said. "You won't be alone."

Melissa winced and reluctantly released Elena's fingers. "Thank you," she said.

"No problem, I will be right back." Elena looked at Samantha. "Take care of her."

Samantha smiled at her. "I will."

x x x

Christopher arrived shortly after his brand-new baby son. He found his wife asleep and his sister and Elena sitting beside the bed, reading magazines. When he came through the door, his gaze went first to the exhausted face of his wife and then to Elena, who smiled at all the anxious questions she saw in his eyes.

"Everything is fine, Christopher. Congratulations. You have got a beautiful baby son."

"Melissa okay?"

"Just tired," Elena assured him, getting up out of the chair. "Here, why don't you sit down? I'm sure she will be happy to see you when she wakes up."

"Elena is right," Samantha said. "Sit down."

"You two took care of her? Got her to the hospital?" Christopher gave the two women a measuring glance.

"We were the only two around at the time," Samantha said dryly. "You shouldn't have left your pregnant wife at home by herself."

"I didn't think the baby would arrive early," Christopher said. "You are right, Samantha. I shouldn't have left her alone."

"Stop worrying about it, Christopher," Elena said. "Everything is just fine."

"Are you sure?"

Elena nodded. "We are sure."

He paused. "Does John know?"

"I called him shortly after the baby arrived. He should be here soon," Samantha said.

Even as Samantha spoke, the door opened to reveal John and his wife.

"They are here now," Elena said softly.

"Congratulations, Christopher, I understand you have a son," John said with a smile.

Christopher nodded, the pride of fatherhood lighting his eyes. "That's what they tell me. I was supposed to be around for the big event, but Elena, Samantha and Melissa had to handle everything all by themselves."

Isobel grinned. "Definitely women's work. I can't wait to hold the baby."

Christopher grinned back. "I agree. If you want to know the truth, I'm kind of glad I missed the delivery-room drama. You know how squeamish I am."

John laughed.

"Hey, you guys had better hush up," Samantha advised in a low, scolding tone. "You will wake Melissa."

Melissa stirred beneath the sheet and sleepily opened her eyes. "I'm awake. Is that you, Christopher? It is about time you got here."

Christopher went over to the bed and took his wife's hand. "I'm sorry I left you alone tonight. I should have been around to do my part of this. Just think, I went to all those classes and read all those books for nothing."

"You can save it for baby number two," Samantha teased.

Melissa groaned. "Can I wait for a while before having baby number two? It sure hurt like hell just now."

Everyone in the room laughed.

Elena was happy. It was one of those moments when everything in her life was perfect.

She was with her family.

Her real family!

Elena knew she had finally found the place where she truly belonged. Finally, she realized that home wasn't just a place. It was a state of mind. And it was about the people. Life really was all about love, and as long as she was with her family, she would always be home.


	19. Chapter 19

Elena cried at the wedding. She couldn't help herself. It wasn't possible to watch Samantha and Mason exchange vows without tears of joy cascading from her eyes, her happiness for her family nearly painful. As the couple faced each other, Elena watched Mason's face, Samantha's back to her as she recited her vows to her almost-husband. Every emotion was raw and unguarded on Mason's face as he repeated his vows gruffly, but with tender emotion.

The weather had cooperated so everything had been set up outdoors, and the decorations were exquisite. Samantha had opted for a small ceremony, although there was a lavish reception planned for after the wedding when hundreds of people would gather in the Ridge to give their best wishes to the happy couple.

Samantha looked like a princess in her ivory Victorian gown of silk and the finest lace. The style suited Samantha, who was tall and svelte; the gown was fitted until it reached her hips and then flared in a bell to the floor.

Elena adored her own emerald green, tea-length dress with its off-the-shoulder, short bell-sleeves and plunging neckline. She had fallen in love with the fitted waist and billowy skirt that hit her below the knee after she had tried it on. The outfit was accented with a black silky tie belt that floated behind her in shimmering waves. The ensemble was finished with black, strappy heels, and Elena knew she looked as good as she could manage when standing next the beautiful bride.

Elena looked across the happy couple at Damon, who was absolutely breathtaking. Damon was in a black tux and a thin black tie with tiny stripes of emerald green that matched her dress. Everything about him looked urbane and sophisticated, right down to his stance and expression, a man obviously completely comfortable in his surroundings and attire.

Forcing herself to tear her eyes away from Damon, Elena returned her gaze to Mason, watching him pledge himself to Samantha.

When the minister reached the part of the ceremony where he asked if anyone had any objections, Mason scowled.

Turning his head briefly towards the man of the cloth, Mason informed the minister irritably, "She is mine. Move on."

Elena bit her lip to keep from giggling. Mason Lockwood was far from subtle about his possessiveness of Samantha. Her eyes met Damon's and her heart skittered. She could tell he was stifling a grin and his eyes were dancing with amusement. Their eyes locked and held, sharing a brief moment of silent communication, of shared mirth.

Turning her attention back to Mason and Samantha, she watched through eyes blurred with tears as the minister pronounced them man and wife. Mason kissed his bride…and kissed his bride again…..and finally stopped when Damon slapped him on the back in congratulations, but Elena knew it was really to keep Mason from devouring his new wife in front of the guests. Samantha's eyes were sparkling with tears as she hugged Elena and took back her bouquet. Damon offered his arm and Elena clenched it, following the newly-married couple down the aisle.

The wedding had broken up and people were making their way to the lovely tents that were set up at the waterfront with tables of food, a bar and a monstrous cake. The sun was beginning to set and the reception area took on a fairy-tale appearance. Elena took a deep breath of the salty, humid air, enjoying the mild evening. "Everything looks so beautiful," she sighed.

"Yeah. Everything. You look stunning, Elena. Did I tell you that?" Damon's gaze was trained on her, his eyes moving over her, lingering at the plunging neckline of her dress.

"Once or twice," she answered, blushing as he continued to stare. Actually, he'd told her at least five times since she had come down the stairs to make her way to the area where the ceremony was being held, and her face had flushed every damn time. It wasn't the words that Damon said, it was the way he said them.

He took her hand, his grasp completely encapsulating her smaller one, and twined his fingers through hers in a proprietary way that had her heart leaping with joy. Every one of the wedding preparations had gone incredibly smoothly, everything perfectly planned. All the wedding party had to do was enjoy the festivities. Watching Mason and Samantha together for the last few days had been achingly poignant, but satisfying. Elena had no doubt that Samantha would be happy with Mason. The two of them were like two parts of a whole, so happy together that it was almost painful to watch. Elena was grateful that Samantha finally had a man who would make her ecstatically happy. Samantha was also pregnant, but not enough to be showing yet. Although Elena hadn't thought it possible, it had made Mason even more protective and nurturing with Samantha. They would both make good parents. Any child born to the two of them would be blessed.

Damon put a hand on the small of her back, leading her to an elegant vacant table.

"I need a drink. What do you want?" he asked.

She smiled at him. "You choose."

"I won't be long."

Elena took a seat and watched him walk towards the bar, so parched, her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth. Damon had always done that to her. One look, one touch, one kiss…and she was captivated.

"Hello," a low baritone said casually above her.

Craning her neck, she saw a man with a broad smile on his charming face. The man was handsome in a rugged, intense sort of way, with short black hair and laser-sharp eyes.

"Hi," she answered cautiously.

"Tyler Lockwood. I'm Mason's nephew." He held out a friendly hand.

Elena clasped it. "Elena. Nice to meet you, Mr Lockwood."

"Please, call me Tyler," he said suavely, pulling his hand from hers and seating himself across from her. "Samantha and Mason speak highly of you. They like you a lot."

She smiled. "I like them, too."

"Beautiful wedding," he commented casually, his lips curling up in a small grin.

"Beautiful couple," Elena added, returning his smile.

"You and Samantha both look lovely, Elena."

She cocked her head and looked at him. "I haven't seen you around in Mystic Falls. Are you visiting?"

"I grew up here but I left town since I was seventeen." He paused. "I'm a professional basketball player."

"Sounds exciting."

"Definitely exciting," Damon said as he stepped back to the table with their drinks.

Tyler smiled and stood up. "Damon. How are you?"

Damon's face was like stone, his expression grim. "I was fine until you started hitting on my woman," he answered gruffly as he plopped the drinks on the table and faced Tyler

"Jesus. Don't go caveman on me, Damon. I was just introducing myself." Tyler took a step, as though he were ready to face off with Damon.

"Sit down, Damon. Tyler, it was nice meeting you." Elena smiled at Tyler and gave Damon a warning look.

"You too, Elena." Tyler shook her hand again and leaned down beside her ear to ask in a low, concerned voice, "You okay? He looks pissed off."

She rolled her eyes. "He usually does. I'm fine."

"I will talk to you later." Tyler walked away, Damon giving him a belligerent look that said he would be willing to go rounds with him as he left.

Damon's eyes bored into Tyler's back, his fists clenched. He sat and knocked back half of his drink before he spoke. "You are not going to talk to him again." His fingers clenched around the glass, his eyes furious.

Elena glanced at him and took a sip of the creamy white drink he had brought for her. "Umm…that's good. What is it?"

"White Russian," he answered briskly. "Did you hear me, Elena?"

"I'm ignoring you until you do something other than give me orders. I don't like it." She took a larger sip of her drink, enjoying the smooth taste on her tongue.

"Tyler Lockwood is no good for you, Elena. He has a reputation of sleeping with multiple women," he growled, tossing back the rest of his drink.

"He is just being friendly. Calm down, Damon."

"I don't like seeing you alone with another man."

Elena chuckled. "Someone is jealous."

He stood and grasped her hand, pulling her to her feet.

"Let go dance." It wasn't a request. It was a statement.

Elena sat her nearly empty glass on the table and followed him.

Dancing with Damon was like making love on a dance floor. He touched, he caressed, he seduced, he whispered naughty things in her ear until her body was on fire and her panties were completely drenched. By the time they left the dance floor after several songs, Elena was practically panting.

Samantha cut her beautiful cake, tossed her bouquet which seemed to fly straight to Elena, although she wasn't even trying to catch it.

"Our duty is done. Let's take a walk," Damon said as he stood next to her, both of them sipping another drink and watching people slowly leaving the reception.

Elena didn't ask where they were going. She didn't care. Her hand slipped into his comfortably and she followed wherever he wanted to lead.

He walked slowly across the lawn, letting go of her hand and wrapping an arm around her waist as they started down a cobbled pathway.

"It is a beautiful wedding, isn't it?" he asked her.

She nodded. "It is."

Damon turned to face her, his eyes soft and warm. "You didn't tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"John said you have handed in your resignation letter to the PR firm in Richmond."

"Oh, that."

"What does Jenna think about that?"

She looked thoughtful. "She didn't want me to go but this is my family. This is where I belong. She understands somehow."

"What about me?"

Elena raised her brows. "What about you?"

He took a deep breath. "I hope you have figured out that I can't live without you, Elena Gilbert. I think about you every damn moment that I'm awake, and then I dream about you when I sleep. There is nobody else. And there never will be. I think I knew it the moment I saw you in your office in Richmond. You are mine, Elena. I need you more than I need anything else on this earth. His voice was vibrating with emotion. "Nobody will ever love you as much as I do, or take care of you as well as I will. Marry me, Elena."

Damon could feel his heart skip a beat as he waited for her answer.

Say yes. Say yes and I will never want another gift as long as I live.

Her eyes were bright with tears as she nodded and murmured, "I love you, Damon Salvatore."

Damon took that answer as a yes because he wanted to, and it was the sweetest affirmation he had ever heard. Right now, it was the only thing he needed to hear. He lowered his head and kissed her.


	20. Epilogue

_Six Months Later_

Elena sighed as she watched her husband hammering nails into a board in the new interior of what used to be the storage room, ogling him openly as she watched the powerful muscles in his arms and back flex. He was sweating even though it was winter, shirtless because of the manual labour he was doing at the moment.

Unaware of her presence, he kept working, and Elena kept watching, still wanting to pinch herself to make her believe that the life she was living now was actually real and not a very lovely dream.

A whimsical smile passed over her face when the glitter of the enormous diamond wedding ring on her hand winked at her as she lifted her hand to pull the warm knit cap from her head. She had just come from the Ridge. The business of the resort had grown into a monster in a very short amount of time since she had become the president.

She had more employees than she could count, and she enjoyed working with all her staff. John was already searching out more sites for the business because it was growing so fast, and they were planning to build an extra wing to accommodate for more customers, especially during the peak seasons.

The presence of a growing business of the Ridge had brought incredible economic growth to Mystic Falls, employing many people who needed jobs. For Elena, that was one of her greatest accomplishments.

Mystic Falls was her home. This was where she belonged. She wanted everyone living in here happy. Just like her.

As she eyed her husband hungrily, she knew Damon was her greatest asset and always would be, no matter how large her business grew in the future. She could live without the business; she couldn't live without him.

Just like he had promised, he did seem to love her more and more every single day. So much so that they would both had a hard time parting in the morning. Damon had needed to make a few short business trips together with John for extension of the business since they had gotten married, and separation for even a few days had been excruciatingly painful for both of them. Maybe it was the newness of their love, or maybe it was just because they were addicted to each other and couldn't bear to be apart.

 _I love you even more today. I miss you._

That text appeared on her cell phone every day without fail while she was working at the Ridge, and her heart never ceased to skitter every time she saw it, and she quickly texted back.

 _I love you. I miss you, too._

Today, his text had been different, throwing her off balance.

 _I love you even more today. I need you._

He had never texted that he needed her, and the slight difference had put her senses on high alert. She handed everything over to John and left the Ridge early, suddenly needing to see Damon, to assure herself that everything was okay.

Now that she was here, she could see that her husband looked fine in more ways than one, and she wondered if she had just panicked for nothing.

She removed her jacket and gloves, dropping them onto the countertop by a beautiful, large window. Damon had done a complete teardown on the storage room. He had wanted to build an office for himself so that he could work at the Manor instead of leaving her alone. She couldn't deny his gesture was sweet and he had always put her first before himself.

Elena kept her eyes glued to his muscular back as she moved toward him anxiously, needing to touch him.

 _I need you._

It wasn't like Damon didn't tell her that all the time, but he had never changed his text. They had been married for five months, having an even hastier wedding than Mason and Samantha had put together. Jenna had come for their wedding, as had her friend Bonnie. In the past few months, she had become good friends with Isobel, Melissa and Samantha, all of the women—including Lillian and Valarie— and they tried getting together as often as possible.

 _I have family again. Lots of family and friends._

It felt good to have family and friends, people she knew she could count on to support her through anything. She was not alone.

Elena carefully slipped her arms around Damon, hugging him from behind after he had put down his hammer. "Hello, handsome," she purred against his back.

"Hey, sweetheart. You are early." He turned instantly and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sweaty and I probably smell," he warned her huskily.

"I happen to love you hot and sweaty." Visions of the many times he had been hot and perspiring with exertion from making her come until she screamed floated through her mind. She inhaled his musky scent, the erotic images becoming more vivid. She had plenty of those memories due to Damon's insatiable desire to make her come. Not that she was complaining.

"I love you that way, too. Want to work up a sweat with me?" he asked hopefully as he moved his hands down the back of her sweater.

She pulled back and looked into his eyes. "Are you okay?" She could see that he was fine, but the sense that something was troubling him still lingered.

He hesitated a moment before replying, "Yeah. I'm good. Why?"

 _I need you._

She shook her head slowly, realizing she had overreacted. "Your text was different today. I thought you needed me, so I left early."

Damon pulled back for a minute to dig into his pocket for his cell phone. He stared at it for minute before he replied, "I guess I typed what I was feeling at the moment. It is different." He frowned as he looked up at her with an intense expression. "I can't believe you even noticed." He put the phone back into his pocket.

She tried to explain. "It wasn't just the words. After I read them, it was like I sensed…... something."

Damon released a masculine sigh. "I was thinking about an idea I had been considering right before I texted you."

"What?"

"Since I have been working on this office, I realize I actually enjoy it. I got a crazy idea to do more."

Elena's eyes widened "You want to do more?"

"Huh, uh."

She glanced around the room. "What do you want to do?"

He shrugged. "It was just a thought. There are so many guest rooms here that are left empty. Maybe we can utilise some of them."

She raised her brows. "Utilise some of them? How?"

He grinned at her. "I know you have always enjoyed painting. What about an art room for painting?"

"Really? An art room?"

"Why not? I love watching you paint." He winked at her. "You look sexy like hell."

She smiled up at him. "Okay." She stroked over his jaw tenderly. "Let's do it. As long as you are happy, I'm okay with whatever you want."

He pulled her tightly against him and buried his face in her hair. "I'm already happy because I have you, sweetheart. Building an art room would just be a very small amount of icing on an already very sweet cake."

"Then bring on the frosting," she murmured right before she pulled his head down and kissed him tenderly. "A cake can never be too sweet."

"You are amazing," he said huskily. "There is one more thing I think I really did need to talk to you."

"Hmm, hmm."

"I want to build a nursery room," he whispered.

Damon's cell phone rang before she could respond, and he scowled as he pulled it back out of his pocket again. "It is Mason." He answered it immediately.

Elena listened intently as Damon spoke, his voice sounding nervous.

"Okay, we will be there soon. I don't care if there is nothing we can really do. I want to be there. And I'm sure Elena wants to be there," Damon grumbled into the phone.

Elena smiled. Obviously Samantha was in labour, and it might be a very long wait at the hospital since it was her first child, but Elena wouldn't miss being there for any reason. She knew Samantha was excited and nervous. If Samantha had to wait around for her labour to start in earnest, Elena wanted to be there for her.

Damon hung up the phone. "Samantha is in labour. Mason said it could be a while, since the contractions are pretty far apart. I should be able to grab a shower."

"I will make us all something to eat while you clean up," Elena agreed. "I'm so excited. I can't wait to see the baby."

"I think it will be a boy," Damon said. "In case you haven't noticed, boys seem to run in the Lockwood family."

Elena laughed. "You know Mason and Samantha didn't want to know the sex of the baby beforehand. You are basing your information on the fact that there are historically more boys than girls in Mason's family?" Nobody would know the new infant's sex until he or she was actually born.

His shirt and jacket now on, Damon grinned. "Not really just that."

"You just hope it is a boy," Elena accused him with a laugh as he pulled her towards the door, her heart light at the thought of welcoming a new baby into the family. "It could just as well turn out to be a girl. Would you really care?"

"Nope. I don't really care whether it is a boy or a girl. I would be just as excited to have either one. The same applies for us."

Elena stopped at the door to stare at her husband. "Us?"

"I don't really mind if our first child is a boy or a girl." He shrugged. "As long as the child is healthy."

She smiled at him. "Same here. But I think I prefer a girl."

"Why?"

She chuckled. "I can dress her up like a princess."

Damon groaned. "Oh, God!"

Elena burst out laughing. "But right now, we will see if Samantha ends up with a girl or a boy,"

"You are right," Damon teased as he pulled her out the door and locked it behind him.

It was a very long night, but they had plenty of company with all of the Gilbert family gathered there in the waiting room. In fact, Samantha didn't deliver her healthy baby boy until the next morning.

Elena walked out of the hospital the next day yawning, her head resting on Damon's strong biceps after they had finally had a chance to welcome the new baby to the family.

"It was a boy," Damon said smugly.

"Beautiful boy," she answered sleepily.

Damon shrugged and pulled her closer to him to shield her body from the cold wind as they walked towards their vehicle. "He looks like Mason," he said.

Elena nodded and huddled closer to Damon's warmth. She yawned again as Damon unlocked the door of the vehicle and opened the passenger-side door for her.

"Tired?" he asked in a concerned voice.

"Definitely." Now that the excitement of the new arrival was over and both Samantha and the baby were healthy, her exhaustion had hit her like a rock.

"Let's go home so you can get some sleep." Damon settled her into her seat and belted her in before he jogged around to the driver's side.

She smiled as her husband got into the car, shooting him an adoring look before she closed her eyes peacefully and started drifting off to sleep. Home wasn't a place or a building for her anymore; it was a state of mind. As long as Damon was with her, she would always be home.

 _THE END_

* * *

 _"Family Ties" has come to an end. I hope my readers have enjoyed this story. It is a slow burn and doesn't have a lot of thrills or excitement like some of my other Delena stories. What I'm hoping to bring out is the family bonding - the family is like music, some high notes, some low notes, but always a beautiful song.  
_

 _I promise I will continue to write Delena stories and share them with all of you. Watch the space!_


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